A Tale of Lost Things and Locker Rooms
by LonDon323
Summary: AU - Gin has denial issues, Rangiku gets fed up, and yeah, stuff happens.
1. Chapter 1

Authors Note: Tite Kubo really loves killing off the best characters, doesn't he? Gin, oh Gin. I feel bad for the poor guy. I'm just gonna say that this story will NOT be depressing. They both deserve each other after all. - Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its character.

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[Chapter One]

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Gin adjusts his tripod, pulling out the legs a few centimeters longer. Although protected by a glove, his fingers are rigid and numb. He cups his palm over his mouth, blowing warm air through the fabric. A shiver runs across his arms, around his bare neck and ripples on his scalp. He sniffs when the dry air blows through his grey hair. His ears, nose and cheeks tint pink from the biting wind. He snaps the tripod clips tight around the legs, securing them in place.

The tall boy must admit, winter has lived up to its expectation this year. It really loves to tease him with its freezing temperature and short days. Oh well, c'est la vie.

He adjusts his camcorder, twisting it on the top of his tripod.

His fingers feel so cold they could pop off. He shouldn't be outside right now. He really shouldn't, especially since he isn't wearing proper boots or gloves. But it hasn't been sunny in the last two weeks. He needs to take advantage of this weather for his film project. It is exactly what he's been waiting for. Sun. That glorious ball of energy blazing in the sky, the heaps of snow gleaming on the earth and the leafless trees shining in a sea of white. Ah, if only every day were like today. Even though Gin despises the winter season, he can't deny that it is quite beautiful at times.

"Gin, I'm freezing my butt off," Rangiku barks, shivering a few feet away. She has her hands shoved in the pockets of her red coat. She is glaring at him, waiting in the middle of the snow-covered field of Karakura College, dying to get back inside the heated building. Her legs tremble as she tries to squeeze her arms closer to her body, desperate to stay warm. "Hurry up."

He peeks through the view hole of his camcorder, making sure the focus is aimed at the background.

"Ok, 'm all set," Gin calls out, hunched over and ready to go. He presses his feet into the ground and slides them further apart for a more comfortable stance. "Now do't like I told'ya."

Rangiku nods and Gin presses the record button.

She looks out into the distance, only her profile visible through Gin's lens. Her lips are set in a mild frown, her shoulders relax. The sun hits the back of her head, creating a shadow over her visage. She removes her hands from her pockets, slow and careful as her hair bristles around her face. Gin adjusts the focus, gradually sharpening the woman's figure and actions. Rangiku holds her breath, seizing any puffs of air that could be seen. She doesn't say anything, nor does she make any sudden movement. She just stares, searching for something far away, something she will never find.

Gin ponders whether he should zoom in or not, but quickly decides against it. The distance gives the scene a nostalgic feeling, so he keeps the frame where it is.

Rangiku raises her chin, glancing up at the cloudless sky, her eyes now visible as her hair blows away from her face. The sun reflects on her left cheek and jaw, her brows are furrowed in despair and her lips part, wanting to speak something she cannot voice out. She lets out one breath, a cloud escaping into the air. It drifts through her strawberry-blond locks before vanishing. She lingers in her position for a few moments more before turning to Gin.

He stops recording.

"Perfect!" he says, giving her a thumbs up.

She lets out a sigh of relief.

"Thank God," she exclaims, sauntering over through the snow. "My toes are gonna fall off. Do you know hold cold it is? Twenty bellow zero!" She kicks herself a path towards the end of the field and stops beside him, watching as he places his camcorder in his bag. "How much more filming do you have to do before you're done?"

"This was th'last scene," he answers, lifting the tripod into his arms. "All I gotta do now is edit everything."

Rangiku beams.

"I'm so excited!" She helps him shorten the legs of his tripod, holding open his bag as he squishes the large object into what little room there is left. He zips it shut and they head down the snow shoveled path towards the main building. "I can't wait to see it when it's done. You've been working on this thing for a while now, right?"

"Yup, over a month."

"Gosh, Gin. When is it due?"

"Two weeks."

"Well, when you're done all the editing and jazz I want to be the first to see it!" Gin chuckles, his gaze drifting to the girl beside him. He takes in the lovely pink of her face, painted from the cold. She is smiling her wonderful smile; the one where her lips sparkle and her cheeks push up against the corner of her eyes. She glances at him, her eyes sharpening and smile fading. "But if I find out you showed your film to Aizen before me, I'll dig your eyes out, and his."

Gin snorts.

"I'm being serious."

"I know, I know," he says, almost tripping when she shoves into his shoulder. "Swear you'll be th'first to watch it." She raises a brow. "Pinky promise." He lifts his hand, presenting his bony finger. She glares at it, contemplates his words, then sighs, curling her pinky around his.

"I'll be interrogating Aizen every once in a while, just to be sure."

"I'm hurt, Ran." Gin places a hand to his chest. "Ya don'trust me?" She gives him a look, the one that makes his stomach swirl and shoots bolts of lightning through his veins. But he keeps his signature grin plastered on his face, like a mask, hiding any trace of whatever he's feeling locked behind bars. "Anyway," he says, turning his head to the approaching building. Several brave students run out the entrance doors, scurrying to the Las Noches facility next door. Gin lets out a soft breath. "Thanks a bunch," he can feel her eyes on his face, "for bein'an actress in my film."

Her smile returns.

"No problem," she says, a bounce to her step. "What can I say? I am a born star, and I do like the attention."

OoOoOoOoOoO

Gin rolls his shoulders back as he awakens his laptop. The screen flickers on, brightening the boy's face. He lifts his backpack on his lap, pulling out his camcorder and connection cable. As he sets up the connection, he double taps the track pad, opening the iMovie software. He searches for his camcorder file and pauses when an enormous list of scenes pop on the screen. He hums, wondering if he should upload them all right now. He taps his chin. No. That would take too long. Might as well download half of it, edit the beginning and then download the rest later. He nods. Yeah, that sounds good.

He selects half the content, and clicks the upload button. He leans back, staring at the 'time remaining' label. Two hours. He sighs. He should start working on that essay due tomorrow.

He slides the cursor to Microsoft Word.

Let the writing commence.

Sitting across from him in the library's silent section, Sousuke Aizen pulls out a fat textbook from his Michael Kors briefcase. Its weight tests the legs of the table, big enough to be a thirty-pound child. However, the brown-haired student doesn't make a move to read it. Instead, he pulls off his glasses, folding them into his shirt pocket, slicks his hair away from his face and slips out an R-rated magazine, hiding it within the mammoth of a textbook.

Gin raises a brow as his friend pretends to study. He doesn't question him though, he knows he won't get the answers he's looking for.

The grey-haired boy checks the progress of the upload. Rangiku's face shimmers on the sample screen. Her blue eyes vibrant and alive, head tilted back, laughing. He knows exactly which scene this is. He can remember the way her hair pooled off her shoulders like autumn's leaves, or how she complained that her cheeks her hurting from laughing so much and when she would yell at everyone who walked into the shot.

He should slow down the pace of that clip. It's quite a good one. He can already hear the soundtrack playing in the back of his mind. Light, sweet and carefree, yet romantic, soothing and low.

"I can see you blushing," Aizen speaks up, eyes never leaving his 'textbook'.

Gin gives the boy a confused look, his cherish smile ever present on his face.

"Wha'do ya mean? Aren't you be th'one who shoul'be blushing?"

"On the contrary." Aizen calmly turns a page, Gin barely notices the image of a nude woman flash by, but decides to shove that out of his mind.

He clicks away from the upload browser and goes back to writing his essay. He has still yet to start. His fingers hover over the keyboard, unable to type a single work except for his name at the top of the page. He pops his knuckles, forcing himself to focus on his paper and leave his film alone, not that he can work on it, but he's thinking about it.

"I know you think you're hiding it well," Aizen speaks up, voice casual, "but to someone like me, it's painfully obvious."

Gin can't help it. He checks the upload time. He holds back a grunt. There's a painfully long way to go. He looks to Rangiku who is still on the sample screen. It's a different shot though, her face is larger and her eyes stare past the camera, almost seeming to peer out of the screen.

"I'm not certain how much longer you can keep up this nonchalant act of yours," Aizen looks at the grey-haired boy, "but eventually the truth will be written all over your face. Although," he pauses, glancing back down at his book, "in my opinion, it already has."

"I'm not sure what yer talkn'bout," Gin says, finally typing the first sentence of his essay.

Aizen keeps a soft smile on his face.

"Oh you will," he assures, turning to another page, "sooner than you think."

OoOoOoOoOoO

Ah, it's snowing. Again.

It has been snowing for the past three days now. What happened to that beautiful sun? Gin wonders if winter will ever end, not that he dislikes it, he just hates the cold. He never seems to be warm enough at night. No matter how many blankets he steals from Rangiku's stash, he can't seem to calm his shivering. Maybe he has a strange biological problem he inherited from his parents. Or maybe he is related to lizards, which explains his cold blood. It makes sense, kind of.

Gin turns his head away from the window when his teacher announces the end of class. He grabs his bag, along with the rest of the students, and heads for the door. The hallway is packed with people. It's so crowded he can barely walk three inches without stepping on someone's shoe. Maybe he should slip outside and take the long way around? Nah. It's freezing and all the paths are covered in snow and ice. He's not wearing proper shoes anyway, going outside would be a bad idea.

Gin's muscles tense when he almost collides into someone, but he pivots out of the way, muttering a small "pardon me" in the nick of time. The guy is so short, is he even a college student? Oh well, Gin doesn't care, so he stalks away after the boy shoots him a small nod of apology.

He turns the corner, grasping the stair railing and hosting himself up the steps. Better navigate on the second floor, there are much less people. As he marches up, he notices Orihime laughing at Ulquiorra as they make their way down. The girl catches his eye, and waves, as Ulquiorra sends him a nod before glaring at the orange-haired girl again. Gin shoves his hands into his pockets. Rangiku wasn't kidding. They really are the perfect pair.

He slows his pace, eyeing the floor as he treks past the few students lingering about.

He's been a bit distracted lately. He can't seem to focus as much in class. His mind has been preoccupied with his short film. He can't stop pondering over it. Ideas pop into his mind like firecrackers, spontaneous, out-of-the-blue. He itches to snatch out his laptop and crop a scene, fade it to another, change the soundtrack and slow its pace.

It's strange. He's never felt so passionate about a project before. Sure, he does enjoy creating films, that's why he's in Film Studies, but this time it's different.

A buzz startles him.

He pulls out his phone from his pocket, Rangiku's name flashes across the screen.

 _COME TO THE CAFETERIA ASAP!_ is what she's sent.

Gin raises a brow, amused by the alarm in her message. This must be important. Rangiku never sends him messages in all caps.

 _On m'way_ , he texts her, picking up his pace.

When he reaches the cafeteria, he scans the vicinity, annoyed by the amount of people. Why are there so many students? They're like a swarm of flies buzzing around with no other purpose but to block his way. He hears his name above the ruckus and snaps his head to the center of the room. Rangiku is waving at him, teeth showing and eyes bright. His chest swells, but he doesn't show it on his face. With his signature grin, he sends her a salute, shuffling through the crowds of people. She looks happy, more happy than usual. He wonders what this is all about. Did she ace an assignment? No. The only thing Rangiku gets exited about is booze.

The maze of people clear as he approaches, he is relieved when he can finally see her properly. She is sitting at their usual lunch table. The one by the pink garbage can Nnoitra had spray painted last semester. She isn't alone though.

His jaw stiffens.

"Gin!" Rangiku calls, waving him down.

He keeps his grin on, approaching at a calculated pace. There is a boy sitting beside her. Why does he look so familiar? He's never spoken to this guy before— oh wait, he was that short kid from the hall. The one he almost bumped into a few minutes ago. Right.

"Hey," Gin says, slipping in the seat opposite Rangiku. "I see that ya brought a friend."

Rangiku beams as the white-haired boy rolls his eyes.

"This is Shiro," Rangiku says. "We have humanities together and I convinced him to meet up outside of class! I've wanted to introduce you two a while ago, but this little guy is just so stubborn."

"For the millionth time, my name is Toshiro," the kid mutters, crossing his arms, "and don't call me little." She sticks out her tongue. He sends her a glare but sighs, turning to Gin with a serious expression. "My name is Toshiro Hitsugaya," he says. "Pleased to meet you."

"Gin Ichimaru," the taller returns.

He didn't expect Rangiku's urgent text to be about meeting someone, and this kid no less, not that it should matter. A strange feeling agitates his gut. He's disappointed. He shouldn't be disappointed though. He's never disappointed about anything. Especially anything concerning Rangiku, except for her drinking habits, she can be over-the-top sometimes.

"Hey, later tonight Ikkaku and I are going drinking at the bar a couple blocks down," Rangiku says, eyeing the short boy. She rests her elbow on the table, turning her entire body towards the kid. "It's called Hueco Mundo. I'm pretty sure you've heard of it. It's super popular! Everyone at Karakura College goes there. You should come and join us. We're in the process of rounding people up, what do you say?"

"I'd rather not," Toshiro says, looking away from her with slight annoyance. "Midterms are coming up and I have—"

"I knew you'd come!" she exclaims, cutting him off. She throws her arms around him, squeezing the breath of out his lungs. The kid's eyes widen when she suffocates him against her chest, his cheeks turn a bit pink at the contact, appalled by her actions. Gin watches, with a tick, as Toshiro shoves her away, gasping for air. Anger spills out of the kid's clenched teeth. "Awe don't be mad," Rangiku coos.

"I said that I'm not going," he snaps, fixing his shirt.

"Oh please, of course you're gonna go, it's Friday! You have plenty of time to have fun before midterms roll around. And Gin is going too." When she says this, she sends him a smile. Gin catches her gaze as quickly as it comes, her eyes almost prying his open, almost. "If you don't wanna drink a lot, you can always hang around this guy. He never drinks, ever. He's Mr. Sober."

"Is tha'whatcha call me?"

Rangiku snorts.

"No," she says, chuckling. "Don't be ridiculous, Ikkaku gave you that name." She grins in a way that makes Gin's stomach flutter. "I call you something else." He grips his bag tighter on his lap. "Anyway, you're coming whether you like it or not." She gives Toshiro a pointed look. He sighs, aggravated, and stands from his seat. "Hey, where are you going?" Rangiku pouts.

"I have homework to do," he says, frowning. "If I get started on it now…I suppose I may be able to go to Hueco Mundo tonight."

The strawberry-blonde cheers, clapping her hands together.

"Woo!" She giggles. "See you there, Shiro!" He groans and rolls his eyes, stalking away while muttering ' _To_ shiro' under his breath. "Isn't he adorable?" she asks, turning back to Gin, joy seeping out of her pours like perfume. "He's barely four feet tall, can you believe it? And his hair, my, he's just like you and your weird hair genetics. Like white? That certainly is a mystery. By the way, Ikkaku and I were planning on heading over to the bar at ten. I'm expecting you to be dressed by nine fifty so we can meet up and go together, kapeesh?"

Gin chuckles.

"Kapeesh."

OoOoOoOoOoO

Gin glances to the time on his laptop, has a mini heart attack, closes the screen and stands from his desk. He pulls off his white shirt, tosses into the laundry bin and opens the top drawer of his dresser. He didn't realize it was already nine forty. He searches through his folded sweatshirts, decides to go for the navy blue one and yanks it over his head. He better keep on the warmer side tonight, since it's late, dark and absolutely freezing. Maybe he should wear an extra pair of socks too. He kneels down, grabs a thick pair of socks from the bottom left drawer, and sits on the edge of his bed. He tugs them on, thankful for the comfort.

"Oh, hey Gin," Izuru says, shuffling into their dorm room. "Are you going to Hueco Mundo?"

"Yup, gotta meet up wit'Ran in five. You goin'?"

"I don't know," the blond says, dropping his school bag on his desk. "Renji told me about it this morning, but I said I wasn't sure if I'd go."

"Why not?" Gin reaches for his boots, slipping them on.

"He said Momo was going to be there."

"Hm." Gin ties his laces into bows, glancing to his friend. "Things still ain't good between the two o'ya?"

"No, everything's fine I guess. We broke up a year ago, but it's still a bit weird." He slumps down on his desk chair. He turns around to face Gin as the guy grabs his jacket, scarf and gloves, putting them on without an inch of skin showing, except for his face off course. "Have fun."

"Thanks." Gin sends the boy a salute. "Try not t'be too gloomy when'm gone."

Rangiku is waiting by the main doors when he gets there. She's wearing her red coat, golden heels and earrings, her black party dress that barely encompasses her chest and stockings. He eyes her, amazed that she is able to wear such clothing in weather like this.

"I see ya ain't holdn'back," Gin comments, stopping beside her. When she turns to face him he almost stutters.

"I can't show up to a bar looking like a slob," she says, zipping up her coat. "I gotta look like a queen, and I get free drinks that way too." She grabs his arm, leading him out the door. "Now help me get there, these heels are a pain to walk in."

"Why not jus'wear boots?" He keeps his body stiff, allowing her to lean against him if ever she staggers. "It's cold, yer toes are gonna freeze."

She waves her hand, dismissing his concern.

"Do you have any idea how immune I am to the cold? I'm like a boiling rock of lava compared to this weather." The point of her heel dips into a pile of snow while her other slips on a patch of ice. She squeaks, almost colliding on her back. She grabs on to Gin for dear life, regaining her balance. He brings his arm closer to his body, tightening her hold. She peeks up, a smile on her face. "Thanks."

His grin softens.

The bar is a mess of people, it's loud, chaotic and there is a lot of laughing. All the tables and booths are loaded with college students, celebrating the end of the week and the beginning of the weekend. He can see Ikkaku and his crowd of friends laughing together with a pyramid of alcohol on their table, and yes, Momo is there. Gin makes a mental note to inform his roommate once he gets back.

Rangiku tugs his arm, bouncing. She points to the bar like a child eager for candy.

"Let's go!" she exclaims, strutting over to the counter with Gin at her side. She tugs off her scarf, shoving it into her large pocket, zips open her coat and lets it fall off her shoulders to the bend of her elbow. Her hair falls down her back, hiding the curve of her neck as it keeps her chin high like a pedestal. It teases the view of her spine as its arch kisses the material of her dress like a snake, hissing for attention. "Hey Zommari," Rangiku sings, sending the bartender a smile.

He nods at her.

"The usual?"

"You know it!" Rangiku looks to Gin who takes the seat beside her.

"And you?" Zommari asks, filling up a pint of beer.

"Water."

The tall man raises a brow, but doesn't question Gin's decision. With a calm, "coming right up", Zommari slides Rangiku her drink and fills a glass of water for Gin. The strawberry-blond gulps half of her beer the moment she gets hold of it, breathing out in satisfaction when the liquid runs down her throat like fresh water after a long run.

"I can already tell this is gonna be one hell of a night!"

Gin doesn't usually enjoy watching college students get drunk, making fools of themselves for the sake of having a good time, and this is no exception. The night is like he had predicted: Rangiku inhales another ten liters of beer (he's exaggerating of course, he thinks), swings several bottles of vodka with Ikkaku and Yumichika, teases Nnoitra and Nelliel about their relationship, woos and jokes around with a whole bunch of people Gin has no interest in acknowledging, except for that Toshiro kid, and somehow gets her hands on a pair of lace stockings, hiding them in the pocket of her coat.

He would rather leave and work on his short film, but Rangiku won't be able to make it back on her own. He has to stay, to help Rangiku, like he always does. At least, that's what he keeps telling himself. He doesn't necessarily have to stay, does he? She knows everyone in the entire bar. Any kind soul could walk her back to campus. There are many trustworthy faces in the room, there's no doubt about that, but… Gin stares at his glass of water.

Why is he feeling this way? He shouldn't be worrying about anything. There's nothing to worry about. He can't drink his water though. If he tries, he knows the liquid will upset his stomach. But he isn't sick, he thinks. Maybe he's catching a cold? No. He's already suffered through the yearly flu. There's something else going on that he doesn't know about, something inside of him that he can't explain.

Someone sits on the stool beside him.

"Seems like you're troubled," Aizen says, his back leaning against the counter. "Do you want to confide in your dear friend?"

Troubled? Gin's tenses, a strange annoyance rumbling in his gut.

"I didn't know ya came to these sorta things," Gin answers, his change in subject rather obvious. Aizen inspects him for a moment before tearing his gaze away to the numerous people chatting around the bar.

"You're right," he says, "I don't. But today was a special occasion." Gin turns his head a bit, interested to know about this 'special occasion'. "I'm not going to tell you the reason." Aizen keeps a calm smile on his face, his line of sight shifting around. "Now concerning my comment, which you had blatantly ignored—you shouldn't be so rude by the way, you do know I have feelings—it seems like you are starting to question your intentions."

Gin keeps his gaze on his glass.

"I'm not sure which intentions yer referring to."

"I think you do."

"Nope, I don't."

Aizen closes his eyes for a moment, a look of amusement washing over his face. Gin can see Rangiku in the reflection of his glass. She is enjoying a bottle of beer, sitting in the middle of a booth with Grimmjow and Szayel. Grimmjow is barking with laughter as Szayel smacks his hand on the table barely able to contain himself. The blue-haired student puts his arm over the back of the seat in a good-natured way, but it causes Gin distress. It doesn't mean anything, it doesn't, not to Grimmjow or Rangiku anyway. So it shouldn't mean anything to Gin either.

"Just so you know," Aizen speaks up, opening his eyes, "a boy named Toshiro asked me which dorm Izuru stayed in."

"Why?"

"I hadn't been apart of the whole conversation so I'm not sure, he just explained that he had urgent business to attend to. I would assume he's there now." Gin stands from his stool. "What's the sudden rush?" Aizen asks, eyeing the boy with interest. He doesn't reply right away, his attention focused on the strawberry-blond as she wobbles to-and-fro, her face flushed from alcohol.

"I gotta leave," Gin says, stalking to the girl.

He shoves Grimmjow out of the way, the guy hiccups, not understanding what's going on, and pulls Rangiku out of the booth and to her feet. She groans, slurring out nonsense as the tall boy leads her to the exit. He can feel Aizen's calculating stare boring into his flesh, but keeps his grin nailed to his face, no matter how much it wants to fall off.

Once outside and away from unwanted attention, Gin secures the girl's coat on her shoulders and twists her scarf around her neck. He slips her hands into his gloves and grabs her heels, tugging them off. She complains, the snow cold against her bare feet, but he motions her to get on his back, she complies, passing out the moment her feet leave the ground. With her shoes in hand, he marches down the sidewalk.

He is slightly alarmed by his sudden actions but decides not to dwell on them. He should focus on getting Rangiku to her dorm, that's the only thing that should matter right now.

Gin lets out a breath, satisfied, when Rangiku is lying underneath her blankets, a glass of water and Advil on her nightstand. He stares at her for a moment, amazed by her gentle expression, her crazy party girl persona invisible to the naked eye. She is beautiful. He leaves soon after that thought, pressing the door closed behind him.

Now, to his room.

He tiptoes to the male's dormitory, climbing the steps to the fourth floor and peeks his head down the hallway. He freezes, hiding within the shadows of the corner. Toshiro is speaking to Izuru just outside their room. Gin shuffles out of their line of sight, not wanting to be seen. He waits, straining his ears to make out what they are discussing, but he has no idea what they're talking about. He keeps as still as possible. Izuru's tone seems worried, anxious even. He wonders what Toshiro could possibly be telling him.

The white-haired boy doesn't stay for long, he leaves three minutes later. Gin hears Izuru close their door. He sighs, peeking down the empty hallway.

He leans back against the wall and falls to a crouching position. He runs a hand through his hair. His fingers aren't cold anymore, nor does he need to keep his jacket on. So why can he feel a shiver run down his spine? He sighs, shaking the nerves out of his system. He should relax. It's late. He's tired. Whatever Toshiro went to talk to Izuru about is none of his business and Rangiku is safe and sound, he shouldn't be fretting. He just needs some rest. He's drained. It has been a long week. Tomorrow will be a better day.


	2. Chapter 2

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[Chapter Two]

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Rangiku steps away from her design, analyzing the lace fabric pinned to the front. Her dress hangs over a mannequin, its tight corset sewn with pink thread, and lavender frills peeking out from underneath. Rangiku taps her chin, leans on her left leg, closes one eye and purses her lips. She grunts. This is not how she envisioned her dress. It's too fairytale-like, too cute. She wants to make something more elegant, dashing, no more ballerina stuff. She wants to bring out her inner cocktail dress. She knows she can do it.

Rangiku tilts her head to the side, humming in thought. She's been working on this piece for a good three hours now. She sighs. This project is due this coming Monday. The weekend couldn't be any shorter. Why did she have to go drinking last night? She could have waited. Oh, but she hadn't drank in a while, she was craving a good round of beers. No. She groans. School is more important than drinking, especially when a project is due in two days.

She grunts. Man, she has the worst headache. Waking up to a horrid hangover isn't the best way to start a Saturday. Although, she is grateful for the Advil and glass of water Gin left on her nightstand. She smiles. He is such a good guy when he wants to be.

She turns to the table beside her and scrutinizes the pile of materials and patterns littering around. This project is killing her from the inside. Why the heck can't she make something fancy? She dresses fancy all the time. This should come natural to her.

"Rangiku!"

The woman peeks over her shoulder surprised to see Nelliel barging into the design studio. Her hair is a mess, her brows are furrowed and her cheeks are red from running. She stomps all the way across the room, each step threatening to break the floor, growling. Rangiku blinks. A distraction! She internally squeals. Taking her mind off of this dress is exactly what she needs.

"Hey girly," Rangiku says, spinning around, "what's up?"

"Where are my stockings?" she asks, her voice sharp. Rangiku gives the girl a confused look. Nelliel sighs, fire boiling out of her ears. "Last night," she elaborates through clenched teeth, "at Hueco Mundo." She takes a moment to catch her breath, her chest heaving. "I was drunk, and I remember you asking me if you could borrow my stockings." Rangiku searches her brain, trying to recall, her eyes lights up.

"Oh right!" She nods. "I remember, what about it?"

"I never said you could have them," Nelliel says. "Nnoitra told me that you yanked them off my legs and ran away before he could get them back." The teal-haired girl outstretches one of her arms, her right hand open and waiting. "Now hand them over."

Rangiku frowns.

"But I need them, I've been trying to get them from you for a while."

"Yeah I know, but I keep telling you you can't have my stockings and my answer hasn't changed. So give them back."

Rangiku eyes the girl. Technically Nelliel did allow her to take her stockings. Although drunk, Rangiku could have sworn she heard the girl mutter something along the lines of a 'sure' or a 'yes', depending on how you interpreted her slurring. But the strawberry-blond was the only one who had processed the girl's response. Therefor she has to conclude that Nelliel did indeed agree to give her the lace pattern material.

She glances at her dress for a moment. Thank goodness Nelliel hasn't noticed. Better find a way to distract the girl a bit longer. She doesn't want Nelliel exploding at this time of day. Her headache has yet to seize.

"I bet you were wearing them for Nnoitra." Rangiku grins watching Nelliel's cheeks turn pink. "Trying to show off your legs, huh?"

She splutters.

"Just give them back!"

"I wish I could, but I can't. I'll buy you knew ones. Your birthday is coming up soon, isn't it? Might as well buy your present early!"

"Rangiku, what did you do to them? Is this going to be like last time?" The fashion student chuckles sheepishly. Nelliel turns to the dress. Her eyes widen. She marches up to it, horrified. "You didn't."

"I did."

"Rangiku," Nelliel whines. "Why do you keep doing this to me?"

"I make you clothes all the time, it's a fair trade!"

The fine art's student groans, rolling her eyes. She turns on her heel and heads for the door, grumbling.

"Whatever," Nelliel says, raising her arms in the air in defeat. Rangiku smiles as she watches her leave. "Oh yeah," Nelliel glances over her shoulder, "I passed by Gin this morning. He said he needed you for something."

"The short film?"

"I'm not sure," she says, "he didn't tell me. But it seemed urgent."

Once Nelliel is gone, Rangiku skips over to her purse, digs around for a moment before pulling out her phone. She is surprised to find fifteen texts and eight missed calls from the grey-haired boy. She raises a brow. This is strange. Gin never tries this hard to get a hold of her. It must be serious. She presses her phone to her ear, waiting as it begins to dial. It barely rings once before he answers.

"Where are ya?" he asks, out of breath. Her eyes widen at the fear in his tone. The only time Rangiku has ever heard Gin sound so unsure of himself was when his golden retriever died, eleven years ago.

"I'm in the design studio, why? What's wrong?"

There are loud voices muffled on the other line and static shuffling from the boy's clothes. His steps are quick, frantic. She can tell he's passing by the cafeteria, probably shoving people out of the way to get to the art building. She frowns. What's going on? Why is he freaking out? Gin never freaks out.

"M'camcorder," he says, his voice wavering, "it ain't in m'room."

She stiffens.

"You mean someone stole it?"

"I dunno."

She can hear the anxiety swimming in his words and the desperation in his breath. He's having a mental breakdown.

Without a second thought, she switches her phone to her other ear. Using her right hand, she grabs her patterns from the table and shoves them into her purse.

"I'm putting my stuff away," she tells him, not caring if the fabric wrinkles. Irons exist for a reason. "Just meet me here and I'll help you look for it, ok?"

"Ok."

She waits until he hangs up before tossing her phone into her bag. Well, she's definitely not going to be working on her project for a while.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Rangiku twists the knob of a Karakura Science Building door, glad to find that it is unlocked. She pushes herself inside, taking in yet another five rows of grey desks, chairs, tiled floors, white walls and renovated ceilings. Clean, pristine and empty, like all the others. She struts to the back row, hoping not to have overlooked anything. She scrutinizes every corner, crack, cupboard, drawer and shelf. She even fumbles through the bookshelf in the corner of the class, removing and rearranging the books. Maybe there is a secret dungeon hidden within the building. But she finds no dungeon, and still no camcorder. She glances at the clock sitting above blackboard. Four thirty six.

They're getting nowhere.

Gin rushes in a few minutes later. He can tell by the look on Rangiku's face that she hasn't found anything.

"It ain't in th'other class either," he says, running a hand through his hair. His grin is gone.

He leans back against the teacher's desk, his shoulders sagging and spine losing its height. He stares at the ground. His face feels cold and his hands are numb. They've been searching for six hours. Six hours! And still nothing. His stomach rumbles. He hasn't eaten anything either, not one thing. He's hungry, very hungry. But he can't eat, not now, not when half of his files are missing somewhere in this school.

"Where th'heck, is m'stupid camcorder?" he mumbles. This is insane.

He's such an idiot. Why did he upload only half of the scenes? Why was he so impatient? He could have waited. It would have taken four hours for the whole thing to import onto his laptop, no big deal. But no, he couldn't wait. For some stupid freaking reason he only uploaded the first half, and now his camcorder is somewhere in this school; lost, stolen, destroyed, he has no idea. If he had been patient he wouldn't be freaking out right now. But he wasn't patient, and the rest of his project is gone. He should have uploaded everything when he had the chance.

"Why th'hell can't we fin'it?"

His hands are quivering. This project is worth fifty percent of his grade. He's screwed. There's no way he can re-film all of those scenes. He doesn't have enough money to buy a new camcorder and he doesn't have enough time to shoot the rest of the film. He's going to fail the class.

"The people in charge of the lost in found said they would contact either one of us if it turns up," Rangiku reminds him, walking down the isles. Her gaze falls to the boy as he stares at the floor, his lips stuck in a tight line. "Have you asked Izuru if he had seen it? Maybe he was cleaning up and misplaced it."

"I asked, he doesn't know."

Rangiku frowns, stopping in front of him.

"Have you asked Shiro?"

"Toshiro?"

"Yeah. Yesterday he went to see Izuru, right?"

"How do ya know that?" Gin glances up at her.

"Well, I was talking to Shiro at the bar yesterday, and our conversation drifted towards Izuru and Momo's breakup." Rangiku rests her weight on one foot. "It so happened that he was childhood friends with the girl and knew that Izuru was mistaking Momo's shyness as hostility. He felt bad for the guy and decided to give him some advice." Gin hums, the bits and pieces of last night's mysteries coming together. "Anyway, Aizen joined in on our conversation and told Shiro where to find him."

"I saw him at our dorm las'night."

"There you go," she says, smiling. "Maybe he accidentally took your bag thinking it was his or something."

Gin looks to his shoes. She's got a point. Maybe all this is is an unfortunate mix up. He can feel himself calming down. Rangiku is always so helpful. He can't understand how she can be calm all the time, but he's grateful, he really is.

She tilts her head, getting a better view of his face. His lips are still in a line, but they aren't as strained, and his breathing is regulating to a normal rhythm. She smiles when he meets her eye.

"Come on," she says, grabbing his arm. "I know where he is."

She pulls him away from the desk, out of the room and down the hall. Gin stares at her from the corner of his eye. She is a strong person. Nothing breaks her down. No matter how much stress school forces on her shoulders, she keeps her chin held high. She is like a soldier, always ready for battle.

He turns his attention away when he realizes she is still holding his arm. Her hand is warm, soft and gentle. He tries not to twitch under her hold.

She does this all the time, he shouldn't be thinking about it. He should be used to her touchy-feely nature, it's apart of who she is. So why is the contact shooting currents of electricity all over his body? He tries to stop the jitter in his stomach and the tightening of his chest. For some reason, he feels like her touch has done this to him before. Many times actually. No. Has it always made him feel this way? But why is he hyperaware all of a sudden? This shouldn't be a big deal. He's known her his entire life. He should be accustomed to it. Maybe it's just a puberty thing? He's past his puberty years though. That bridge has been crossed. Maybe what he's feeling is normal? He shouldn't worry.

Gin shoves those thoughts out of his mind. He doesn't want to think about this. It makes him feel flustered. What a strange feeling. He doesn't like being flustered, especially when he's around Rangiku. It makes him feel vulnerable and…something else. As if he's afraid she will realize something he doesn't want her to know.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Rangiku guides Gin to the library, and lo and behold, Toshiro is sitting at a table surrounded by an army of textbooks and papers. He appears to be studying for an exam. Midterms are coming up after all. The boy notices them right away, it isn't difficult, Rangiku practically shouts his name across the room. The librarian glares at her, displeased by her presence. Rangiku is usually not permitted to enter the library, but she assures the librarian she will not be there long.

"Hey, how's my favourite humanities buddy?"

"Busy," Toshiro says, glancing to Gin then back to the girl. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Gin watches as Rangiku slides her arm away and jumps to Toshiro's side. She kneels down, leaning close so as not to speak too loud. Her hair is brushing against the kid's arm, her shoulder is tapping against his shirt, and her hands barely skim the boy's leg. Gin turns his gaze to the floor. He can't bring himself look at them. Why is he feeling bothered? There's nothing to feel bothered about. He's acting dumb.

"Yes there is," Rangiku answers. "Remember when you went over to Izuru's last night?"

"I do." Toshiro nods. "Did he take my advice?"

"Um, I don't know. I haven't seen him. Anyway," she adjusts her position on the ground, "Gin's bag isn't in his room anymore and the last he saw it was before leaving for Hueco Mundo. We were wondering if you had seen it since you were at his dorm."

"What does it look like?"

"It's blue, the zippers are green, the straps are grey and I think the front pocket is red." Rangiku motions her hands in the air as she speaks, forming the size and shape of the bag. Gin is surprised by how accurately she remembers it.

Toshiro puts a hand to his chin.

"I can't recall ever seeing a bag like that. Where would it have been in your room?"

"On m'chair," Gin answers.

"Hm. I don't think anything was there when I had visited. It had probably been misplaced before I arrived."

Rangiku frowns, turning to Gin. She stands, patting Toshiro's shoulder.

"Thanks for the info," she says.

"No problem." The short boy eyes the two of them for a moment as Rangiku steps towards Gin. "If this is of any help, Izuru mentioned that Renji had stopped by at around ten o'clock. Maybe he had taken your bag mistaking it for his own?"

Rangiku beams.

"Another clue!" A teacher hushes her with a strict finger to his lips. The girl whispers a sorry and zips her attention back to Toshiro. "Thanks, Shiro, you're the best."

"It's To—never mind. Good luck with your search."

OoOoOoOoOoO

"Well, seems like Renji is out with Rukia right now," Rangiku eyes the text message from Grimmjow, "and he won't be back until eleven or later." She flicks her phone shut.

Gin drops his butt down on the hallway bench. His grin falls as he hangs his head and slouches. This situation couldn't have gotten any worse. Now he has to wait for God knows how long to probably end up empty handed, again.

Rangiku raises a brow, eyeing the boy. She leans against the wall beside him, crossing her arms.

"You look like you've already given up."

He shrugs. He might as well.

"You know, you still have over a week to finish this project. If we find your camcorder tomorrow everything will be fine."

"What if w'can't fin'it t'morrow?"

"I think we will. It couldn't have vanished off the face of the earth."

Gin sighs, his lips forming into a small frown. He really does look like he's given up, but Rangiku hasn't. He shouldn't be fretting, seeing the glass half empty is not the best way to live life. Rangiku has always seen her glass overflowing with booze and has never lost hope!

The strawberry-blond pushes off the wall and plops down beside him. He needs to know that she's there for him and she always will be. But he keeps everything to himself. He should learn how to open up to her more often, not that he doesn't, he does, but not as much as he should.

Maybe all he needs is some of her Rangiku love. She'd always snuggle close to him when he felt sad, well, in elementary school, but he's basically the same kid from way back then. Maybe he's lacking physical affection? Whenever Rangiku is having a bad day, Orihime gives her a big hug and rubs her back. It works for her now and it worked for him in the past, so why not?

She slides over, squishing close to him. Their thighs, arms and shoulders touch, almost gluing together. She can feel him tense. He tilts his head away, his hair covering his face.

She blinks. Hm. This is new. She eyes him carefully.

He's been acting a bit strange lately. He probably thinks she hasn't noticed, but she has. There are small differences in the way he looks at her or speaks to her. His eyes linger on her face too long and he keeps a small distance between them, unsure of how close they're allowed to be. It's as if he has become hyperaware of something, yet doesn't know what that something is. He is holding it back, suppressing it. A secret maybe? She doesn't know. She'll find out eventually though, she always does.

Rangiku curls her hand around his elbow, moving it down his forearm. She rests her fingertips at the bass of his hand like she used to. She can hear him suck in a breath. Her eyes widen a bit when his pulse quickens against the pads of her fingers.

Now this is definitely new.

Is he aware of his heartbeat? It doesn't seem like it. He's probably too distracted over his missing camcorder, right? His pulse is racing though. Is he sensitive to her touch? She had never considered it, or noticed. He always puts on a I'm-too-cool-to-be-flustered kind of front so she never would have thought. But how could she have missed this? His pulse is way too fast to be normal.

She looks at him, but he suddenly stands and Rangiku could have sworn his cheeks were red, but the colour is gone the moment she blinks.

"Let's get food," he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I'm starvn'."

She gapes, a little frazzled.

"Oh, uh." She eyes his stance and the way his face shifts out of her view. What. Was she imagining things or something? "Yeah ok," she says, standing to her feet.

She brushes down her blouse and adjusts her purse, following him down the hall. She stares at his back, confused and a bit dazed. Her stomach is tingling, but she doesn't mind it. She places a hand to her cheek, a gentle smile pulling her lips.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Rangiku struggles to unlock the door to her room. Ugh. She's so tired. How the heck is she supposed to put this key into the lock? Her hand-eye coordination expires past midnight.

The nob twists. Oh. Orihime peeks out, gleaming at the sight of her roommate. Rangiku shoves her key back into her bag. Thank goodness. Orihime to the rescue!

"Hey!" Orihime greets, letting her in. "Where have you been?" She closes the door once the strawberry-blond has entered. "And why do you look so tired?"

"Gin lost his camcorder and we were looking for it all day," she says, falling on her bed. Her purse plops to the floor as she rolls on her back. "Apparently Renji might know where it is, but he's still out with Rukia. The damn guy, he got himself stuck in traffic! That idiot should know not to take the street by Yoruichi's pancake place. Oh well. We decided to call it a day and start the search again tomorrow."

"You know, it's weird you say that."

"What do you mean?" Rangiku asks.

Orihime skips to her bed, sitting on the edge.

"Well, I met up with Ulquiorra for lunch today and we saw a strange looking guy in the cafeteria."

"Strange how?"

"He looked suspicious, or maybe nervous? I'm not sure, but he was holding some sort of recording device." Rangiku sits up, brows furrowing. "A camcorder, I think." Her eyes widen. "Ulquiorra said he recognized him from his high school."

"Who was it?"

"He didn't remember the guy's name, but he knows he's in engineering with Renji and Grimmjow."

Rangiku looks down at the wood floor. Could it be? But how? Did Renji accidentally take Gin's bag? If so, he must have brought it to the bar and misplaced it. Rangiku wouldn't be surprised if the redhead invited one of his engineering buddies to Hueco Mundo. This guy could have taken the bag thinking it was his. She taps her chin. This is all just a hypothesis, but at least this 'Renji clue' is getting more interesting. Although, if this guy was holding the camcorder in plain sight he must have realized he had taken the wrong bag.

She glances at Orihime as the girl lifts her covers and snuggles her legs underneath.

"Do you think this camcorder might be Gin's?" Rangiku asks.

"I don't know." Orihime rests her back against her bed's headboard. "Doesn't Gin have a blue school bag?"

"Yeah, why?"

"That guy was carrying a blue bag. I could have sworn it reminded me of Gin's."

"You're joking."

"I'm serious."

Rangiku gasps.

"Why didn't you tell me this sooner? What does the guy look like? If we don't know his name at least I can ask Renji if he recognizes him."

Orihime hums, gazing at her lap in thought.

"He was tall, he had short black hair, um," she scrunches her face, trying to recall, "he had small eyes, kind of an intimidating vibe. He was quite muscular but lean, you could tell he works out." She purses her lips. "That's all I can remember."

"Thank you, Hime!" Rangiku says, smiling. She reaches for her purse on the floor, digging her hand around before gripping her phone. She clicks open the screen, scrolling through her contacts before landing on Gin's name. She is about to tell him everything she has learned but pauses when she reads the time at the top of the screen. She hesitates. "It's one in the morning," she mumbles, biting the inside of her cheek. She did not even realized.

Orihime yawns.

"I'm going to sleep now," she says, snuggling into her blankets. "Goodnight, Rangiku. Oh, and don't forget to brush your teeth."

"I won't, good night, girly."

Rangiku turns back to her phone. She should tell Gin tomorrow morning, after he's had a few hours of rest. He's exhausted, and telling him something like this, at one in the morning no less, wouldn't be the wisest of decisions. He should sleep now and forget about his missing camcorder. All day he was running around, his face white and breath frantic, trying to locate the thing. There has been enough stress for one day, especially for Gin. The poor guy should take a break. He needs to take it easy.

Rangiku stands from her bed, placing her phone on her nightstand. She tiptoes to her closet, changes into her nightgown and grabs her toothbrush and toothpaste. She slips on her white slippers and heads for the door.

Orihime said nothing about flossing.

She steps out into the hallway, closing the door behind her as quietly as she can, and she struts over to the girl's washroom.

Gin has really been acting different lately, but not in a mad way per se, just different. More shy? She remembers the way his heart had raced and the flash of colour on his cheeks. She knows she saw it. It had appeared for barely a second, but it was there. He could deny and ignore it all he wanted, but she knows what she saw. She wonders what this could mean. He has never acted this way before, well, to this extent. Whenever he's nervous or flustered he usually hides it extremely well. She doesn't notice, ever. No one does. The only time she had seen Gin act all embarrassed (like really embarrassed, not just vaguely Gin-like embarrassed) was when his mother mistook her for his girlfriend, but that was ages ago, probably when they were five or something.

Is Gin finally becoming interested in love and relationships?

She opens the door to the girl's washroom. No one is inside, for obvious reasons. She heads over to a sink, pops open the lid of her toothpaste and applies a decent amount on her toothbrush. She starts with her top row of teeth.

Gin has never spoken to her about girls before, nor has he ever shown an interest in dating. He had always detached himself from the romance scene. Whenever she would bring the topic up, he would change the subject or avoid answering any of her questions. Maybe he really is shy. He's kind of an inexperienced kid in that area of life. He's probably just uncomfortable talking about it.

Rangiku tries not to grin.

Wow. After all these years, she has finally found a weakness. Not that she'd ever exploit his lack of knowledge of romance to her advantage. She isn't that evil, or is she? But still. She can't help but find this trait endearing. She wonders what other secrets he's hiding from her. He really never tells her these things. How annoying. He knows almost everything about her, but when it comes to him, he clams up. The dork.

Oh well.

She spits out her toothpaste.

She should just go to bed and enjoy a good eight hours of sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

.

[Chapter Three]

.

"Rangiku, wake up," Orihime says. She pats the girl's shoulder when she groans, rolling to her side. "Come on." The orange-head pokes her friend's cheek, earning a whine and a swat of the hand. Orihime frowns. "Rangiku, it's past ten o'clock, you should get up."

Rangiku sighs, brushing her hair out of her face. She peeks up at the art student, pouting.

"I'm sad," she says.

"Why are you sad?" Orihime asks, turning away and heading for her desk. She grabs her bag, slings it over her shoulder and places her sketchbook in the crook of her arm.

"I don't get enough sleep."

"Then take naps during the day." Orihime slips on her sneakers. "That's what I do." She walks over to the door, twisting the knob and pulls it open. "I'm going to the painting studio."

"Have fun," Rangiku says, lifting herself up in a sitting position. "Don't get too carried away with Ulquiorra." Orihime turns pink.

"I'm not seeing him today."

"Yeah sure, he's probably already there waiting for you. He's such a cutie."

Orihime snaps her head away, her ears turning red. She shuffles out into the hallway mumbling a quick, "bye!" before closing the door. Rangiku smiles. They really are the perfect pair.

She stares at the door for a moment, relishing in the silence of her room. Everything is till around her, she can feel her even heartbeat pumping through her veins. She turns her attention to the window by her bed. The weather isn't as gloomy today. The sun is peeking through the clouds, its rays reflecting off the corneas of her eyes, shimmering against her irises like jewels. Her lips fall into a careful line, parting the slightest bit. The trees are blowing with the wind, gentle, carefree. Rangiku's chest swells.

She pulls away her covers, placing her toes on the wood floor. She should get ready. She has to meet up with Gin and tell him about the suspicious guy with the camcorder.

OoOoOoOoOoO

The elevator is out of order, Rangiku frowns, just her luck. She rounds the corner, heading over to the stairway. Why is the elevator still broken? It has been broken for the past four weeks. Gosh. You'd think the school would have had someone repair it by now. And why the heck does Gin live on the seventh floor? The bum. He should have charged his phone last night, that way she could have texted him to come meet her down here. But it's dead, and she has to march all the way up. Oh well.

She glares at the stairs. She really should start working out with Nelliel. Her stamina is at absolute zero.

With determination and dread, she climbs up, a hand on the railing for support. When she reaches the sixth floor she stops, heaving for air. Goodness gracious. Boy is she out of shape. Who invented stairs anyway? She lifts her head up, one more floor to go. She can do it. She whines as she takes the first step.

Rangiku almost sobs when she reaches Gin's floor. Finally. She stalks down the hall to his room. Her legs are on fire, but she supposes that was a good workout. Maybe she should start climbing stairs to get a nice pair of toned legs.

She knocks (more like pounds) Gin's door, eager to see him. She waits for three seconds before the knob turns. Her face beams when familiar slit eyes come into view.

"Gin!" she cries, barging in and squeezing him into a hug. Her head collides onto his stomach. She is so tired. He staggers back, trying not to fall. "Thank God you're here, I thought I wasn't going to make it." She swiftly checks to see if Izuru is around, he isn't. She internally sings.

Of course, she didn't forget about Gin's strange behaviour yesterday, how could she? Gin being all flustered and all is a hard thing to forget, and she is not going to let this revelation go to waste. She holds back a grin. Ah, she has to admit she is kind of evil, a bit. She can't help it though. Who could?

"Wha –" He regains his balance, his hands hovering over her back. "Wh-what's wrong?"

He stuttered. Hm.

"I have important news!" she says, brows furrowing. She flicks her head up in his direction, completely aware of their proximity. His stomach is flexed. Ha, what a cutie. He's shy about his tummy. She puts on a serious expression. "It's about your camcorder."

"Oh," he says, his arms awkwardly unsure of what to do. But Rangiku is aware of this and doesn't let go. "Well, what did ya fin'out?" He inhales. She can feel his stomach rise against her breasts, deeper and longer than normal.

"You know when Shiro told us about Renji?" she asks, lifting herself to her full height. Although taller than she, her forehead easily level with his lips. She raises her chin, eyes in a deadlock with his own. His smirk is not as prominent as it usually is and his mouth is parted a bit in surprise. "Well it could be that he brought your bag to Hueco Mundo and had one of his engineering friends take it by accident."

He stammers a bit when she slides her hands to his lower back, but not too far to cross the boundary of friends to well – she holds back a smile – lovers.

Her chest is pressed up against his own. She can feel his heartbeat through her clothes. How could she not have noticed this before? Gin is finally becoming aware of the allure of the female body! Took long enough. She's been developing all throughout high school. She wonders if he finds her attractive. She hopes so. She doesn't just act this way with just anybody.

"Do ya know what th'guy looks like?" he asks. His hands accidentally touch her back, but he pulls away in a second, his arms wavering at a distance. Interesting, Rangiku notes. They've hugged before, many times actually. Gin has never had a problem squeezing her and embracing her in the past, and not just the far past, like, a couple months ago. Something has changed. Rangiku keeps a level expression, calm, cool and collected. She's testing the waters. She wants to know more about Gin's odd reactions. She wants to know if it means something more. "Maybe we can ask Renji if he recognizes him?"

He's nervous. She can tell.

"Good idea!" she says, beaming. She steps away from him, releasing their hold. A bright smile forms on her face when Gin's knees almost buckle. But he keeps his composure, taking a step back to grab his sweater. She's decided this is enough touching for now. She'll do some more investigation at a later time. "I was thinking the exact same thing! You know where Renji's dorm is?"

"Yup." He nods, glancing at her.

She can see that his skin is a bit more flushed than usual. It's only a little, but she can tell.

They head out, side by side. He locks his door and points in Renji's direction. She begins describing the guy's appearance, updating Gin on her newly discovered info, and how Orihime had seen him in the cafeteria. As she talks, she can't help but glance at Gin's lips every once in a while. She internally sighs.

She hopes he finds her attractive. She wants him to be attracted to her, very much so.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Gin makes sure he has his signature grin on his face before knocking on Renji's door. The redhead grumbles out a "coming" before appearing out of his room. His eyes are a bit red from lack of sleep, his hair is messy and he's not wearing a shirt. He's got a six-pack. Gin unconsciously places a hand to his stomach, wondering why he feels self-conscious all of a sudden.

"Hey, Renji," Rangiku greets, smiling.

Gin notices how she stares at the guy's abs for a second too long. Something in his chest pricks.

"What's up?" Renji asks, leaning against his doorframe, crossing his arms. He has pretty decent biceps too.

Gin wonders if Rangiku finds the guy attractive. Does she like muscular guys? He looks down at his scrawny build. His stomach churns, a tense feeling swimming in his gut. Why does he feel so unhappy with himself? He wishes he wasn't wearing a T-shirt right now. It's obvious his arms are on the thin side. He should have worn a sweater or something, that way no one would see his lack of muscle. Maybe he should start doing push-ups every night.

"We need to know the name of a guy in your program," Rangiku says. "He has short dark hair, an intimidating face, tall, lean and," she pauses, "I think that's it."

"Um." Renji squints his eyes in thought. "Oh." He nods in recognition. "Are you talking about Shuuhei?"

"Shuuhei Hisagi?" she asks.

"Yeah, he's the only one I can think of who fits that description."

Shuuhei Hisagi. Gin knows that guy, not personally, but he's seen him around. He also has a nice body. He's quite the stud actually. Calm, cool, strong, attractive, smart and quiet. A lot of girls like him. He's the picture perfect guy with a great personality. Gin's lungs deflate. Ugh. Thinking about it makes him feel awful. He's nothing compared to that guy.

"Do ya remember if ya brought'im to Hueco Mundo?" Gin questions, trying to shove his insecurities out of his mind.

Renji rubs his chin.

"I brought a lot of people with me. But yeah, I think he went."

"Do you know where he is?" Rangiku asks.

"Right now?"

She nods.

"Probably in the library studying. We've got an exam tomorrow."

Tomorrow. Rangiku's design project is due tomorrow, isn't it? Is it really ok for her to be helping him now? It's Sunday. He glances at her, watching as she claps her hands, gleaming. She doesn't seem to be bothered by it. But he's taking up the time she needs to finish her work. She should stop helping him. She has more important things to do.

"Thank you, Renji!" she says. She pats Gin's back, excited. His grin softens the slightest, her joy contagious. "You're a great help. Let's go, Gin." She grabs his arm, pulling him away.

"No problem," Renji calls out as they disappear down the hall.

"This is great!" Rangiku says, practically sparkling. "I feel like a detective solving a crime!"

Gin chuckles, but it dies in his throat when she lets go of his arm. She raises her hand to her hair, removing the strands tickling her face. He looks at the floor, his chest sinking. She's helped him enough already. She should stop searching and finish her project. She's a good friend. She really is. She knows how to cheer him up and support him when he's weak, but she can't get too carried away and neglect her own responsibilities.

Her shoulder bumps into him every once in a while, sending waves of heat all over his body. He doesn't want to part from her, he really doesn't, but he should tell her not to worry about him. He's got this under control, he thinks, so he doesn't want to waste anymore of her time. She has her own stuff to do. He can't take up her schedule. She has her own life, her own friends, plans, parties and deadlines. He isn't that important to her. He's just some childhood friend, some guy.

His shoulders slump. He really isn't mister positive today, huh?

"I wonder where all of this investigating will lead us. Maybe by the end we'll find out that someone was murdered! Or one of the teachers is sleeping with a student. Ah, imagine? That would be crazy gossip fuel! And what if –"

"Hey, Ran," Gin says, cutting the girl off. He doesn't look at her when she peers over with a smile.

"What's up?"

They stop in front of the library. Rangiku really isn't allowed in there. All of her strikes have been used up. There's no point, he concludes, she shouldn't be helping him anymore. But telling her he doesn't need her help is harder than he thought it would be. His throat is drying up. He keeps his grin on his face though, never faltering, like a mask permanently glued to his skin.

"Don't ya have a project due t'morrow?"

She puts a hand on her hip, pursing her lips in thought. She pouts, a look of doom flashing across her eyes.

"Ah! I do," she says, gasping. "I totally forgot."

"Ya don't have t'help me anymore."

"Yes I do!"

"Ya gotta do yer work, Ran. Ya can't neglect it."

"But I don't wanna work on my project," she whines. "Are you sure you don't need me? I really don't mind looking with you."

"I'm sure. You shoul'go and finish yer stuff."

She stares at him, frowning. She crosses her arms, having a mental debate whether she should listen to his advice or not. She lets her arms fall to her sides in defeat.

"Ok," she mumbles, taking a step back. Gin looks up at her face. "But if you need me just call, or send a text. I'll answer and come straight away." He nods. She turns away, walking down the hall. His grin almost falls, but he snaps it back in place when she glances over her shoulder, her eyes bright. "I'm serious, Gin, you better call or something. I need an update every once in a while or I'll track you down."

He snorts.

"I know, I will."

"You better."

She gives him one more smile before looking away, her figure disappearing down the corridor and out of sight. The building is quite empty today, and quiet. He hadn't realized until now.

He lets his grin fall.

He leans against the wall, his eyes fixated on his shoes. Why does he feel so glum? He feels like, as every second goes by, Rangiku is getting further and further out of his reach. She's way too out of his league. Completely. He doesn't belong in her world. She is so much more confident than he is, and popular, smart, fun and beautiful. She is a star, a legend. And he… He feels inadequate. He's just the guy everyone finds creepy and strange. Rangiku deserves to be friends with someone better, someone who can be themselves, someone who doesn't feel the need to hide behind a mask. He was lucky enough to be her neighbour and grow up with her. If they hadn't been childhood friends, he would have never been able to talk to her like he does now.

He furrows his brows.

Why is he thinking this way? Why is he so sad and insecure about everything? He's never worried about this stuff before. He shouldn't be thinking about this. Rangiku can be friends with who ever she wants, even a weird-looking guy like him. He sighs. Maybe he's just stressed out or something. He's over thinking things. Why wouldn't he be adequate enough to be around her? He's a good guy. He's not a creep or a pervert. He's never once looked at Rangiku is an inappropriate way, unlike the other guys at their school. And he's a virgin, a complete virgin. He's never kissed a girl, not even on the cheek or the hand. Never. He's been saving it for someone special, no matter how embarrassing that sounds.

He rubs the back of his neck.

He's never felt this way before. Even though he's trying to cheer himself up, he can't seem to lighten his mood. His lips turn down into a small frown. Will Rangiku have a boyfriend one day and leave him behind? Will she forget about him? His heart feels heavier than a three-ton elephant. One day Rangiku will find herself a boyfriend. That fact is inevitable. He's surprised she hasn't found someone already. She has an amazing personality. She could snatch anyone she wanted. He lets out a breath, it comes out ragged. He doesn't want to be left behind. He doesn't want to be stuck in her shadow.

He can't stop thinking about it though. He's been avoiding it for so long. It makes him feel terrible. He doesn't want Rangiku to forget about him. He doesn't. That would be the worst thing in the world. But he wouldn't stand a chance against any other guy. He isn't muscular, or lean, intellectual, confident or attractive. He's creepy-looking, strange and his personality isn't on the charming side. His frown deepens. He wouldn't be surprised is she ditched their friendship in pursuit of someone better. He really isn't anything special. He can't provide her with anything except a sarcastic joke every once in a while to make her laugh.

His arms feel cold and fingers are numb. Winter is such a lonely season. It's too quiet. There aren't any birds, animals, leaves and plants. Everything is dead. Winter kind of reminds him of himself. The snow acts as a front, covering everything beneath it. He lives behind the surface, always protecting himself, hiding the truth.

"Gin."

The grey-haired boy snaps his head up, alarmed. He tries to grin, be can't bring himself to, his lips stay in a frown. He mentally freaks out, trying his hardest to pull himself together. What is happening? Why can't he grin?

"Are you alright? You look like you're about to cry," Aizen says, eyeing him carefully.

He does? Gosh. He forces out a quiet laugh trying to convince his friend not to worry, but it breaks. He runs a hand through his hair, swallowing down the lump in his throat. Oh no. This isn't good. He really shouldn't have been thinking so much. He needs to grab whatever control he can muster up.

Aizen analyzes the boy for a moment, taking in the small tremble of his shoulders and the cold sweat trickling down his temple. It appears that they need to have a talk, a serious talk. Aizen was hoping Gin would be able to resolve things on his own, but it seems that this is not the case. He's going to need help.

"How about we go inside one of the quiet rooms, hm?" Aizen says, motioning to the library.

Gin looks up, confused. What does this guy want? Isn't it obvious he doesn't want to talk to anybody right now?

But the psychology student gives him a smile, one Gin has never seen before. It is knowing, kind. The sincerity is genuine, Aizen does not mean any harm. Gin hesitates, but eventually pushes himself off the wall, agreeing to follow the brown-haired man into the library. He was supposed to look for Shuuhei. But he can't bring himself to continue his search right now. He'll confront the guy later.

Aizen guides him to the quiet rooms, taking a secluded path through the back, away from curious eyes. He opens one of the doors, allowing Gin to enter first. He does so and sits on one of the plastic chairs, leaning his elbows on the table. Aizen closes the door with a soft click, placing his school bag on the floor, and sits opposite Gin. He rests his back against the seat.

"So," he says, watching Gin as he stares at the table, hair covering his eyes, "there seems to be something that is bothering you, correct?" The boy doesn't react to his words at first, but after a moment, he shrugs. Aizen crosses his right leg over his left. He slips off his glasses and slicks back his hair. Better get into serious mode before this all goes down. He knows Gin will put up a fight, especially if they are going to be talking about _that_. "And I'm assuming this is about Rangiku." Gin immediately stiffens. "Hm," Aizen hums. He isn't surprised. "Have you realized then? What all of this means?"

Gin's posture slumps.

"I dunno."

Aizen rests his hands on his lap, a patient curve to his lips.

"Then let me help you out." Gin tilts his head up a bit. "Let me ask you one question." Aizen meets his gaze. "It's a simple question, but I want you to seriously think about it." Gin nods, waiting. "But I warn you, I'm not letting you out of this room until our conversation is over. This is an important issue you need to resolve, and I know you won't be able to ponder it on your own." Aizen gives the boy a hard look. "Do you understand?"

Gin shuffles in his spot.

"Sure."

"Good." Aizen smiles. "Now, for my question," he pauses, "do you love Rangiku Matsumoto?"

The question hovers in the air like a knife, cutting the air particles, slow and even. The bookshelf beside them tenses up at the silence, the rug beneath their feet stills, and the table almost seems to stiffen, waiting for something to happen. Aizen hears the footsteps of students walking by their room.

Gin stares.

He doesn't show any form of physical reaction at first, but Aizen is patient and is pleased when his question hits Gin like a bullet. The boy's face explodes into a deep scarlet. He snaps away from the table, startled, almost falling off his chair.

"Wha –?"

"Do you love Rangiku?" Aizen asks again.

"I – I know what ya said," he says quickly, clearing his throat as the red blooms down his neck and around his ears. "Why would ya a-ask somethin'like that?" He can't look at Aizen, horrified by the intensity of his blush. He puts a hand over his mouth, trying to hide the colour and cool his skin, but his hand is just as hot. This is really bad.

It's as if Gin has never considered the notion of love before, at least, in regards to Rangiku. Aizen was expecting him to have thought about it, at least once in his life. But he is surprised to see that Gin has been shoving the thought away for a while, and with such determination. This boy really does enjoy torturing himself, huh?

"You're not thinking this over," Aizen says.

"There's nothin'ta think over."

"Of course there is."

"No there ain't."

Aizen sighs.

"You honestly think there's nothing to think over? Your face is redder than my father's car."

What. No.

Gin stands from his chair. He doesn't care if his face is on fire. He doesn't want to talk about this. He's not going to talk about it. Not with Aizen. Not with anyone, not with himself. Nope.

He stalks to the exit and grabs the knob, but Aizen is ten steps ahead of him and stands in his way. He crosses his arms, a calm smile on his face. He shakes his head.

"I thought I made this very clear, you are not to leave until our conversation is over."

"It's over," Gin says, twisting the knob, but Aizen places a hand to the boy's chest. With a short flick of the wrist, Gin is shoved back, colliding onto the edge of the table. He scrambles to regain his balance but Aizen grips his left shoulder, forcing him back onto his seat. "H-hey –"

"You're not doing this," Aizen tells him, "not with me." Gin gives him an incredulous look, his breathing heavier. "This thing you keep doing," Aizen points at him with his index finger, "you know what I'm talking about, you have to stop."

"I got no idea what yer talkin'about," Gin says, making a move to get up, but Aizen's eyes gleam in warning, halting his actions. Gin freezes in his spot, his joints and bones turning to ice.

He can't move. His heart stutters in his chest. No, he can't stay here, not with Aizen, a psychology genius. He needs to be alone and let this feeling pass. He doesn't want to think about it. It'll go away if he distracts himself. He just needs to work on some homework or something.

"I'm going to sit back down," Aizen says, voice hard. Gin remains in his spot, watching his friend take his seat and fold his hands over the table. Aizen's smile is gone, now replaced with a serious line. Gin breaks eye contact. He is not letting this guy read his mind, not that he literally can, but he's quite amazing at guessing. "You do know I'm your friend, right?"

"Yeah."

"And you also know you're making this situation harder on yourself?"

"I'm not –"

"Gin," Aizen says. "You need to think about my question carefully."

Gin turns away. Mortified that his face is still red. Why is he getting all flustered? This is ludicrous. Rangiku is his _friend_. They've been friends since the beginning of time. Why would Gin love her? Well of course he cares about her and loves her in that sense but definitely not in the way Aizen is implying. Maybe Aizen isn't even implying anything at all and he's over thinking things again.

He glares at his lap. Yup. He's probably over thinking things. He should calm down. He's freaking out and making a fool of himself. He needs to relax his breathing and slow down his heart. Man, why is he acting this way? He's losing control of himself. Where did his mask go? Did he somehow forget to put it on this morning? His emotions are flaring up on his face like an earthquake. He can't let this happen. Gin never lets anyone see past his mask.

"How do you feel around Rangiku?" Aizen asks, his voice calm and even.

This guy is pissing him off. How can he be so relaxed all the time? He doesn't even try to put up a front. He's always in control of himself. Gin's stare pierces holes into his jeans.

"You need to talk about this." Aizen leans back in his chair. "It's not healthy keeping this bottled up inside, you're killing yourself, and you know you can trust me."

Gin doesn't say anything. He really doesn't want to have this conversation. He's not sure why he's so hostile all of a sudden. His heart feels like it's made of stone and he doesn't want to break through to its core.

"I'm going to ask one more time," Aizen says. "Do you love Rangiku?"

"No!" Gin snaps, his voice loud. He lowers his head, alarmed by his outburst. His hands are shaking, and his stomach is twisting in knots. He's loosing it. What is wrong with him? He needs to calm the heck down. He lets out a breath. "I don't like her."

Aizen raises a brow.

"I think you misheard," he says, "I said love, not like."

"Wh'tever, same difference."

"I guarantee that love is quite different than like."

"I don't wanna talk'bout this."

"Why are you so afraid to admit it?"

"There's nothin'to admit."

"I think there is," Aizen says, observing the boy. Gin's breathing is laboured and he's sweating, quite a lot.

Aizen was aware of the guy's feelings, but he hadn't expected them to be this serious, and he's denying them so profusely it's incredible. Gin is afraid of something. Aizen has a vague idea of what that fear could be, but he wants Gin to figure it out on his own. Stating all the answers would be unhelpful. This situation needs to play out slowly.

Gin bites the inside of his cheek. He shouldn't be acting this way. He's like an emotional teenager. He's already lived through that. He should be past all of this drama. What is wrong with him? There must be something wrong. He keeps asking himself yet he still doesn't know the answer. He shouldn't be losing it over a stupid question, it's just a question, and this is just a conversation, with Aizen.

He covers his face with hand, resting his elbow on the table. All he can think about is Rangiku. Ugh. He can see her in his mind, smiling. She has such a beautiful smile. But she isn't smiling for him, she's smiling for a different man. She's calling out his name, laughing at his jokes, tugging his arm, kissing his cheek. Gin swallows. He feels so depressed. Why is he tormenting himself with these images? It makes him want to crawl into a corner and wallow in misery. There's no way Rangiku would ever fall for a guy like him, not that he cares. He bites the inside of his cheek. One day she'll up and leave. She'll forget about him. She'll get married to a handsome lawyer who's got his act together, someone who doesn't hide behind a mask. Someone strong, brave and cool, someone just as amazing as her. Not a struggling film student with low self-esteem.

Gin can feel something logging itself in his throat. Oh gosh. Does he really feel like crying? This is stupid. This shouldn't be a big deal. Nothing is ever a big deal in Gin's world. He's always aloof, nonchalant. He doesn't feel dejected or have the need to cry. There's nothing to get emotional about.

"You love Rangiku," Aizen speaks up.

"Please don't," Gin whispers, his head lowering more.

"Why are you afraid to admit it?"

Gin slouches.

"Are you afraid because you won't be able to put up a front anymore?" Aizen asks.

Aizen watches Gin tense. He can see the way his muscles harden into rocks and they way his spine curls forward, afraid to sit straight. His leg twitches and his arms compress themselves closer to his body. His lips are pressed together in a tight line, his Adam's apple bobs up and down more than necessary. Gin is in love with her. He's fallen hard, Aizen can tell. But they two have been friends since the beginning of time. Gin doesn't want to ruin their friendship. They're close, Aizen does have to agree, but Gin can't keep on shoving his feelings away. He knows the boy has been doing it for many years now, and he knows he can't possibly keep it up for very long.

Aizen shifts his gaze about the grey-haired boy, analyzing him with a careful eye. He looks quite helpless. It's sad, really. He's known Gin for quite a few years now, and he has to confess this is the only time he has ever seen him this way. He looks terribly troubled.

"You should tell her how you feel," Aizen says. Gin stiffens. "You don't have to look so frightened. Just go up and tell her the truth."

"I can't." He looks at his lap, leaning his cheek against his hand.

"Why not?"

"I shouldn't even…" he lets out a breath and swallows. He struggles to speak, his tongue tied in the back of his throat. "I – I shouldn't even be feelin'this in th'first place."

"There's no law preventing you from falling in love."

Gin's cheeks burn red. Ugh. Why the heck is this guy saying something so embarrassing like that? Gin hasn't even said he loved her. Aizen is just putting words in his mouth.

"How about, instead of literally telling her, you express your feelings through your short film."

"No way."

"It may seem cheesy now, but I think you'll appreciate my suggestion later on."

"I can't tell'er somethin'like that."

"You should have more confidence in yourself, you make it seem as if you've never had a chance in the first place."

"I don't, and I don't think'bout Ran that way."

Aizen pauses. They're always bouncing back to square one, huh? Denial. Nonetheless, Aizen easily takes notice of the thoughtful look on Gin's face. He smiles.

"Take my advice. Tell her, you never know what her response will be. She may even like you back." Gin's heart almost leaps out his throat at Aizen's comment. That's definitely not possible. "In any case," Aizen says, "I believe our conversation has come to an end." He stands from his chair and grabs his bag. Gin glances from his lap, watching his friend step over to the door. Aizen turns around, a kind expression on his face, he slips on his glasses and messes up his hair so that his bangs fall over his forehead once again. "If you need anymore guidance, don't hesitate to confide in your dear friend, ok?"

With that, he leaves.

Gin sighs, staring at the tabletop, his lips set into a line.

Everything is different now. The next time he sees Rangiku, he won't be able to put on a mask. It's broken, gone.

He's trembling.

He runs a hand through his hair. He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't want Rangiku to know. He really doesn't want to show how vulnerable he is. He's tried to push it away, he really has. He's tried and tried and tried. At one point he honestly thought he got rid of these feelings, but it just kept building up. Her laugh, her smile, her charm, care, honesty and trust. Everything about her. He was caught, the day he first met her.

Gin exhales. This isn't who he is. He isn't the protagonist of this story. He shouldn't be messing around with love and romance. He's just the childhood friend. Nothing more. Rangiku just likes him and teases him as a brother. She touches him like she would anyone else. He isn't special, he isn't. But – his head falls in the crook of his arm – does he want to be?


	4. Chapter 4

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[Chapter Four]

.

As anti-climactic as it sounds, Shuuhei _did_ have Gin's camcorder. When the grey-haired boy was composed enough to leave the silent room (with his signature grin and all), he found the engineering student sitting at a table studying, like Renji had assumed. Shuuhei apologized profusely for taking his property. He felt extremely guilty and ashamed for being so careless. He swore it would never happen again.

"Thanks," Gin remembers telling the guy, once his blue bag was slung over his shoulder. He had been pleased to know it hadn't been cracked, crushed or scratched. It was returned safe and sound, not a single mark. And all his scenes were saved.

Gin did not stay in the library long. After receiving his camcorder, he made a beeline for his dorm room. The sooner he got there, the better. The halls were beginning to fill with people, but he was glad he hadn't passed by any familiar faces. He really did not want to talk to anybody. All he wanted to do was sit at his desk and work of his film project.

Gin lets out a breath. Man, the school should really fix this elevator. Why the heck is it still broken? He stalks down the wooden floor, his steps heavy and eager. He digs his hand into his pocket, struggling to find his key. Dang, his jeans are way too tight. Is he getting fat? He had bought these pants only a year ago. They couldn't have shrunk this fast. He stops in front of his door, yanks his key out of his pocket, shoves it into the lock and pushes the door open.

Izuru isn't there. Gin exhales, relieved.

He kicks the door closed, locks it and slams his butt down at his desk.

He turns on his laptop, pulling out his camcorder and connection cord. He doesn't care how long it will take to upload the rest of the files, he is going to wait, no matter what, without a single complaint, not one. His screen brightens to life. He double clicks the iMovie icon, drumming his fingers over the table as it loads. He sets the connection, begins importing his files onto his laptop and leans back in his chair. He sighs, staring up at the ceiling.

Finally.

What a chaotic weekend.

He doesn't think he's ever felt so stressed in his entire life. Wow. This camcorder basically held the outcome of his future, at least, the future of his film class, which he does not want to fail. No way. He is going to ace that class. And he is going to do it with this short film. He spent so much time and effort filming, capturing the right lighting, setting, angle and mood. Gosh, he hasn't worked on anything with this much passion before. He better get a good grade.

He glances to his laptop. Two hours to go and the last half of his scenes will have uploaded. He should do something. Much can be done in two hours and he doesn't want to sit around doing nothing. He stands from his seat, his knees popping as he stretches his legs. He should consider doing yoga. His muscles and joints are as stiff as Ulquiorra's personality.

Gin looks around the room, wondering if he should do some cleaning. His bed is made. The blankets are neat, and clean, each corner folded at a point, and he knows the clothes in his dresser are organized. He had swept the floor a couple days ago and the window screen is as clear as day. He turns to Izuru's bed. His sheets are a bit messy, but still tidy nonetheless. The guy's dresser has a sock peeking out of the top drawer but he doesn't want to mess this that.

He looks to the blonde-kid's desk. It is packed with textbooks. There are two giant stacks of them squished into the corner while five lay open, littered with graph paper marked up with notes, equations and rules.

Gin walks up to Izuru's desk, curious to see if any treasures lay inside. He gazes around the massive pile of papers before deciding to search through the top drawer. He is surprised to find a hand mirror sitting on top a Harry Potter book, the third volume, he notes. Gin is about to turn away when he catches his reflection. He freezes for a moment before snagging the mirror and bringing it close to his face.

His stomach churns.

Gosh. He looks like a mess. Did Shuuhei notice? He hadn't mentioned anything, probably too worked up over taking his camcorder. But dang, he looks awful.

Gin runs a hand though his hair.

His lips are chapped, and only now does he feel the stinging pain. Has he been licking them recently? He only does it when he's anxious or nervous. He must have, but how could he not have noticed? His bottom lip looks like the Sahara desert for goodness sake. Gin rubs his eyes. They look tired, worried and strained. The bags under them are heavy (he cringes) and his brows are furrowed the slightest. He looks troubled, and it doesn't take a genius to figure that out. Aizen had commented on his bothered appearance, but he only assumed his friend could tell because of his perceptive nature. Well, now he knows. It is obvious, at least, to those who know him well enough.

Why hadn't he realized he looked this bad?

Gin gazes at his grin. He swallows. It looks forced, incredibly so. He thought he was doing a pretty good job keeping it natural, but – he lets out a breath – now that he's looking at it… His feet grow numb as the cold floor sucks away its heat. What is he going to do? His grin has been his default for, well, for his whole life. It is the mask he lives in, breathes in, hides in. Why can't he make it look convincing? He's always slipped it on like a hand to a glove. It fit perfectly, kept him safe and at a distance from everything else. But now – he feels his legs shake – now it just looks pained, anguished.

He takes three steps back and falls on his chair. What is happening to him? What is he supposed to do? He can't go around showing his face like this.

He places the mirror on his desk. He can't look at himself anymore. He doesn't want to feel anymore self-conscious than he already does. He stares at the floor, tracing the wood with his eyes. His hands are cold.

 _Do you love Rangiku Matsumoto?_

Gin clenches his jaw when his heart stutters in his chest. The feeling is agonizing. He slumps forward, his elbows resting on his thighs, head hanging down. His grin falls, curving into a frown. He shouldn't think about that. Their conversation is over – _was_ over, a long time ago. Aizen was only trying to make him say something he didn't want to say.

Gin squeezes his eyes shut, at least, more shut than they already are. He tells himself to focus on his breathing. He shouldn't be thinking of anything else. In and out. Just inhale and exhale. It isn't that hard.

He should forget about Rangiku. Forget about her hair, her eyes, her smell, touch, laugh, smile and charm. Yup, and just breath in and out. Forget about the way she sings when she's working or the way her hand glides down his arm and squeezes him close when she's cold. Forget the times she's run her fingers through his hair, comforting him when he feels sad. Forget about the time she almost kissed his cheek in high school because Orihime had dared her to, and forget the way she looked at him instead, in a way he had not seen before. He should forget the way that look made him feel. The way his blood shot down to his crotch, how he had panicked, but no one knew. How he forgot how to speak but somehow excused himself and hid in the bathroom, waiting until he cooled down.

He lets out a breath.

All of these memories are driving him insane. He should forget about them all. He can't handle them, the way they make him feel is just too much. He shouldn't be feeling this way in the first place. He shouldn't. He can't. Rangiku is just his friend. Best friend. And best friends are not allowed to get nervous or flustered. He whimpers, dumping his face in his hands.

This is too much. Why is he remembering all of this? He should be forgetting. His breathing is all wonky now. He can't keep it even.

He swallows.

He has to avoid her. It's the only thing he can think of. There is no way he is letting her see him this way. She would know. Right away, she would know. Just one glance and she would figure him out. Everything would be revealed. With one glance, whatever remains of his mask are left on his face will shatter. His feelings are crossing the line, a line they shouldn't be crossing. He can't let her know. He doesn't want her to realize. No way. It would ruin everything. Their friendship would be destroyed. It would be awkward, unpleasant. She wouldn't feel comfortable around him anymore, she wouldn't hug him, smile, laugh or tease him. She would worry about leading him on. She would take a step back. They wouldn't be friends anymore, let alone best friends.

He groans against his hands. Why can't he hide anything from her? If he could, this wouldn't be such a big deal. Man, why does he have to feel this way? He wishes he didn't. All these emotions are just too complicated. He's making everything weird.

He has to avoid her. Once he's able to snap out of this stupid roller coaster of emotion he'll start talking to her again. He has to regain his control, his composure. He has to rebuild his mask. He's not supposed to feel this way. He's just the creepy kid. That's all. Nothing more. The creepy kid lucky enough to be friends with the greatest person in the world, and he doesn't want to ruin that friendship. Not in a million years, and not because of this stupid feeling.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Rangiku shrieks, jumping back from her dress. A wide smile cracks on her face. Yumichika almost pricks himself with the pin poking out of his mouth, but manages not to suck the little guy down his throat and die. He pulls it out with careful fingers and turns to the strawberry-blond.

"What do you think you're doing?" he snaps, placing a hand to his chest. "You shouldn't be yelling like a maniac when there are pins and needles everywhere."

She brushes him off.

"Come on," she says, swatting her hand, "I'm just expressing my joy. Anyway, I'm done my dress!" She raises her chin high and crosses her arms, proud. "I've finally finished. Took long enough, I thought I was never going to finalize this thing, and it's only like," she checks the clock hanging on the wall, "ten thirty." Her eyes widen. "Holy crap."

Yumichika glances to the mannequin, eyeing it from top to bottom, then looks back at Rangiku.

"Hm," he grunts. "It's alright." She raises a brow at his response. "But if I were you, I would get rid of all that lavender and switch it with gold. Gold is much more beautiful. And that pink, I know you're trying to go for a cocktail dress, but really, pink? You know there are other colours you could have chosen from, like carmine or vermilion."

"Geez, why do you always have to be so nitpicky?"

"I'm not being nitpicky. I'm voicing my opinion."

"Whatever," she says, smiling at her design, "I like it."

Yumichika turns away and gazes at his own mannequin. Unlike Rangiku's playful style of clothing, his is more on the romantic and sophisticated side. His mannequin is wearing a red button up shirt, complimented by a gold tie with a lace pattern embroidered on its surface. The trousers are black, clean, crisp and ready to be worn by any who value fashion. He had ironed them, just yesterday actually, and he has to admit that he finds ironed pants quite pleasing to the eye. He grins. Ah, he does have to confess he is quite the design student, a legend, even. He wouldn't be surprised if he were the top student in their program. Oh, but now he's being a bit narcissistic, isn't he? Hm, oh well.

He glances away from his work when he notices Rangiku's stance shifting from one of confidence to worry. Strange. He observes her carefully as she brings her phone closer to her face. The screen illuminating her cheeks like the headlights of a car. She bites her lip, leans on her left leg and stares with a sense of uncertainty in her eyes. He frowns. This is not the Rangiku he knows.

"What's wrong?" he asks, strutting over to her side of the studio. She doesn't seem to have heard him. He crosses his arms. "Rangiku."

"Yeah?"

"I asked you a question."

"Sorry," she says, looking away from the small device, "what was your question?"

She seems a bit out of the loop. She's preoccupied with something. He glances at her phone. Is she waiting for someone to call? An employer maybe? No. She doesn't have time for a job. He catches her gaze, she seems a bit sad. He takes a step closer.

"Is there something bothering you?" he asks, not liking how her expression falls.

"Gin was supposed to have messaged me by now," she says.

"Why?"

She sighs.

"Long story short, he lost his camcorder and he's supposed to update me if he's found it or not."

"He hasn't?" She shakes her head. "Then call him or something. Don't just wait around. Be assertive."

"I have," she says, letting out an exasperated breath. "Like a million times. I've texted him every single hour and I've called him five times now. I don't understand. He has his phone, I know it's charged." She furrows her brows, confused. "Do you think he's ignoring me or something?"

"Ignore, you?" Yumichika scoffs. "No, he couldn't if he tried." Rangiku purses her lips, checking her cell. "Maybe he lost his phone? If he's suddenly taken up the habit of losing things then it's safe to assume he's probably missed placed it." Yumichika yawns. "It's getting late." He checks his watch. "Ugh. I really hate having class at eight thirty in the morning, especially on a Monday." He heads over to his station and starts packing up. Rangiku doesn't make a move to get ready though. He pauses. "Forget about Gin," he says. "We've got a project due tomorrow, that's more important, and you really need to get to bed, you look tired. Beauty sleep will do you some good."

Rangiku waits for a second longer, but Gin doesn't respond to any of her messages. She turns off her phone and listens to Yumichika's advice. It's probably nothing.

Once in her dorm, she heads for bed whispering a small "goodnight" to the already sleeping Orihime. She sends the grey-haired boy one more text before falling asleep. But when Rangiku checks her phone the next morning, Gin still hasn't replied. She frowns. He doesn't reply the next day either, or the next. Her frown deepens and her worry morphs into annoyance.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Izuru jumps in surprise when his phone chimes. He lifts his head off his desk, a little groggy, and glances over his textbook, peering at his phone. He blinks, grabs the device and reads the message. He turns around and stares at Gin whose eyes are glued to his laptop.

"Hey," he speaks up, resting his elbow on the back of his chair, "Rangiku texted me." Gin's shoulders tense, weird, but Izuru doesn't dwell on it. "Is your phone off? She said she's trying to reach you." The grey-haired boy shrugs, still working on his short film. Izuru receives another message. He reads it, raises a brow then look back at his roommate. "Rangiku says she's fed up and that she's marching up the stairs right now."

Gin stops what he's doing. He saves his file, shoves his equipment into his bag, zips out of his chair, tugs on his shoes and yanks open the door.

"Where are you going?" Izuru asks, frowning.

"Nowhere special," is Gin's reply before closing the door behind him.

It only takes three minutes later until Rangiku is pounding on their door.

"Let me in!" she barks.

Izuru jolts up, startled by the noise, and rushes for the knob. His face bleaches white at the sight of the strawberry-blond. Rangiku's eyes are burning with fury and her hands are constricted with rage. Her brows are furrowed and her teeth are clenched, seething.

"Where the heck is he?" she demands, stomping inside. She fumes when he is not sitting at his desk nor lying on his bed. She snaps her glare to Izuru who trembles by the entrance. She growls.

"I –" He fumbles around for an explanation, afraid of saying anything that will add fuel to the fire. "He left, like a couple minutes ago." He points to the open doorway.

"Where did he go?"

"I don't know. I – I assumed he was going to meet up with you."

She stalks up to him as he shrinks in size. Her hair almost bursts into flames.

She doesn't want to play this stupid game anymore. Gin has been avoiding her for the past three days and it is pissing her off. He hasn't even told her if he found his dumb camcorder! Like what? Hadn't she made it clear that she wanted to be updated? She didn't spend a tremendous amount of time looking for it for no reason! She wants to know if he's found it or not.

She breathes out, steam almost pouring out of her ears. What the heck is wrong with this guy? Doesn't he know that avoiding someone is completely immature? He isn't a little kid anymore, he's a grown man. And he has no reason to avoid her in the first place! Is this some kind of sick joke? What has she done, huh? All she does is care for him, make him laugh, spend time with him, help him with whatever he needs help with, but now he's avoiding her? Her veins pulse with aggravation. Being ignored is not cool.

"That annoying piece of – "

"What's going on?" someone asks, peeking in from the hallway.

She turns away from Izuru, the poor boy almost turning into a puddle of goo from her fierce glare.

"Shiro? What are you doing here?"

" _To_ shiro. I was passing by," he says, crossing his arms. "What's wrong? You seem infuriated."

"I am," she answers, stepping out of the room and into the hall. She places her hands on her hips, trying not to explode. Doesn't Gin know that avoiding someone is absolutely cruel? Doesn't he care at all about how it makes the other person feel? "Gin is ignoring my calls and texts. He even ditches his room when I come on by to see what's wrong." She looks to the short boy, irritated. "I don't understand. One second we're soul mates, having a good time, and the next he's treating me like the plague."

Toshiro gives her a look.

"I saw him not too long ago."

"What?!" Her eyes widen. "Where?"

"I believe he was heading towards the library, quite quickly might I add." He watches her expression switch from fury to outrage.

"He was acting kind of weird," Izuru says, peeking from his room, "when I mentioned that you," he glances at Rangiku, "had messaged me, I mean."

"Weird how?" Toshiro asks.

"I don't know. He looked stressed or something."

"Stressed?" Rangiku snaps. She scrunches her face, annoyed. "He was probably stressed because he knew I was coming to beat him up. The punk. If he's trying to act all cool and distant, I'm not buying it."

"Would you like some help tracking him?" Toshiro asks. "My next class doesn't start in another half an hour."

"Sure," she says, turning for the stairs. "You said he was heading for the library?"

"That is correct."

Izuru watches as the two leave. He glances back at his roommate's empty chair, wondering what has been bothering the guy. To go as far as avoid Rangiku no less. This must be a big deal. To avoid Rangiku is a declaration of war, a suicide mission. Gin is putting a lot on the line.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Dumb librarian. Can't let her in, huh? She leans back against the wall, waiting for Toshiro as he searches the library for the grey-haired boy. Why the heck is Gin acting this way? He knows he can talk to her about anything. She is definitely willing to listen to whatever concerns her may have. But no, he obviously wants to be difficult.

She huffs. How dare he ignore her. Does she mean nothing to him? He certainly means a lot to her. How can he just ignore her like this? She would never ignore Gin, never. This is ridiculous. Why can't he just talk to her? Is talking really that hard? She can feel a volcanic eruption about to explode in her gut. This is dumb. And why is it so difficult to track down this kid? Gin isn't the greatest runner, he couldn't have gone off too far.

A man steps out of the library.

"Aizen!" Rangiku calls, jumping in front of him. He blinks, startled, but sends her a smile.

"What a pleasant surprise," he says, adjusting the strap of his Michael Kors bag.

"Have you seen Gin? Is he in there somewhere?" She cocks her head to the library, her lips set in a hard frown.

Aizen looks at her for a moment before shaking his head.

"Is there something wrong?" he asks, his smile slipping into a line. He watches the annoyance flash across her face. Gin, Aizen internally sighs, what did you do?

"That stupid guy has been avoiding me for the past three days," she says.

Oh. He frowns.

"Avoiding you?"

"Yeah! And for no reason! The last time I saw him we were just joking around, having fun, and then _bam_! I never hear from him again."

Aizen turns to the library. He hadn't seen him inside. The guy must have noticed he was being followed and chose to hide somewhere else. He sighs. Gin is really not coping well with all of this. Maybe he had put too much faith in him. He thought Gin was more responsible than this. Aizen should have just held his hand like a father and walked him over to Rangiku and told the girl himself that Gin loved her.

But to actually avoid Rangiku? Come on. He can't be serious. Is he really this afraid he'd lose her? Gin should have more confidence in himself. Doesn't he know that Rangiku cares about him, at least as a friend? A lot, he must add.

"What are you waiting out here for?" Aizen asks, turning to the girl.

"I'm waiting for Shiro. I'm not allowed inside so he went in to look for Gin instead." Rangiku glances away. "Speak of the devil." Toshiro stops beside them, empty handed. "You didn't find him?"

"No," he answers. "I looked everywhere and asked around but no one has seen him."

"Ugh. Why is Gin doing this? Where could he have gone?"

Aizen peeks over his shoulder, eyes gazing passed the glass doors of the main building. There are footprints in the snow. Aizen almost raises a brow. He wouldn't. Gin hates the cold. But to avoid Rangiku… Goodness.

"He might have gone outside," Aizen says, gesturing to the doors.

"No way." Rangiku waves her hand. "Do you know how cold it is? Gin would die just thinking about it."

"It may be a possibility," Toshiro says. "If he's avoiding you, he obviously doesn't want to be found. He must be hiding in the place you would least expect." She frowns.

"He doesn't want to see me _that_ much?"

Toshiro's chest tightens at the look on her face.

"I don't think you've done anything wrong," Toshiro says, hoping to cheer the girl up. "There must be a more complicated reason for his odd behaviour." Her frown softens, but it doesn't go away.

"What should I do?" She holds her arms over her stomach, gaze drifting to the floor. "He's been acting weird for a while now, but I never thought it would result to something like this."

Had she done something to anger him? She doesn't know. Gin never tells her anything. He keeps all his feelings to himself. She wishes he would confide in her more, it would make situations like these much easier. She glances at the main doors, noticing the footprints in the snow. Why can't he just talk to her?

"I would suggest giving Gin some space for the time being," Aizen says. She looks at him with a somber expression. He places a hand on her shoulder, encouraging her not to give up. "Don't worry, I think Gin is just confused. He has a lot on his mind at the moment and needs to think things through." Rangiku nods. "But," he lets his hand fall back to his side, "if he's still avoiding you by the end of the week, I would suggest giving him a piece of your mind. This situation is ridiculous and he is making everything more difficult than it should be." He sighs, shaking his head. "If I come across him, I assure you I will give him a talking to."

She smiles.

"Thanks."

OoOoOoOoOoO

Orihime looks over her sketchbook. She watches as Rangiku folds a black T-shirt. The strawberry-blond is sitting on her knees, by her drawer, a little too quiet. The smell of laundry detergent fills her nose. Orihime smiles. Clean clothes are happy clothes, but Rangiku isn't smiling.

An empathetic feeling swells in Orihime's stomach.

"Are you doing ok?" Orihime asks. Rangiku stiffens, shrugging as a reply. "Gin is still avoiding you?" She sighs, nodding. "That's five days now."

"I know," Rangiku says, placing her T-shirt into her dresser. She turns to Orihime, an exasperated expression on her face. "Can you believe this guy? I don't understand what's going on. I literally have no clue. **"**

"Well, it's already the end of the week, are you going to go into battle tomorrow?"

"It won't be much of a battle if I'm going up against a lanky film student."

Orihime chuckles as she places her sketchbook aside and flops down on her stomach. She embraces the feel of her blankets against her skin and rocks her feet in the air, propping her head up with her hands.

"I wonder why Gin is acting so strange," she says. She doesn't ever remember the grey-haired boy being this way. Then again, he had always been a mystery in her eyes; the creepy-looking kid who never let anyone too close for comfort. "You think he's some sort of secret agent?"

"No," Rangiku answers, grabbing another shirt. "He's not very stealthy, he'd trip on a rock and blow his cover." Orihime laughs. "But," Rangiku lowers the shirt onto her lap. Orihime takes in the muddled expression on the girl's face. "Whenever he doesn't know what to do with something, he always hides from it." She lowers her head. "Is he confused about something? Maybe I did something that offended him?"

"No, of course not." Orihime says. "I don't think you offended him. He's probably unsure about how he feels about you."

Rangiku looks up at her, urging her to elaborate.

"You see," Orihime says, "I can only talk from personal experience, but remember when I was confused about how I felt about Ulquiorra?" She nods. "Well, he was feeling the same way as I did, he was just as confused as I was. But he isn't the kind of person to just go up to a girl and declare his feelings. He's shy and unsure of how to talk about stuff like that. At first I had a hard time figuring out whether he liked me or not, but I started to notice when he'd tense up or stutter and blush." Orihime smiles. "Maybe Gin is the same way or something, and he doesn't know how to confront you about whatever he's dealing with." Rangiku bites the inside of her cheek in thought. "You always tell me to be bold, and to not hold back. So," she shuffles in her spot, "be bold!" Orihime's cheeks turn pink, a little embarrassed by her words. "It worked for me so, and you're a bold person anyway! Just um, give him a push, encourage him. Maybe Gin is shy like Ulquiorra?"

Rangiku grins.

"Shy?" she muses. "Hm. Yeah maybe. You never know." She chuckles at the thought. If he's shy, he hides it very well. He's always nonchalant about everything. Her eyes suddenly brighten. "Hey, do you think he might like me?"

"In a romantic way?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not sure. Do you want him to like you?" Orihime asks back, leaning closer.

"Of course I do!"

Orihime sends her a sly smile.

"Do _you_ like him?"

Rangiku's cheeks dust with a faint rose.

"Yeah," she says, curling a lock of hair behind her ear. "I do." Orihime squeals.

"Ah, no way!" She giggles, blushing. "In a _like_ like way?"

"Yeah. I've liked him for a while actually." Rangiku continues to fold her shirt. "It's weird how I've never talked about it."

"I think this is the first time you've _ever_ mentioned liking someone." Orihime claps her hands, face gleaming. "This is so exciting! I'm so excited!" Rangiku laughs, enjoying the girl's reaction. "There is no doubt in my mind that Gin likes you back! This is exactly like a movie when best friends fall in love with each other! Ah, this is so cool!" Orihime grabs her sketchbook. "I feel inspired to draw a whole bunch of cheesy romance scenes now."

Rangiku shoves her last shirt into her dresser and stands, stretching her arms up in the air.

"Well, once I go into battle tomorrow and defeat the lanky film student, I'll tell you all about it."

Orihime bounces.

"I can't wait!"


	5. Chapter 5

.

[Chapter Five]

.

Gin closes his laptop. His eyes are so dry it's hard to move them around. He turns in his chair, glancing at Izuru, who's studying on his bed. The blond bites the end of his pencil, face hard in concentration. He frowns for a moment, jotting down a quick note in his notebook before blinking. He looks up at Gin.

"Are you done editing your film?" he asks. Gin watches as he leans back against the wall, pulling a three-inch textbook on his lap.

"Yup," he answers. Izuru's eyebrows lift.

"Can I watch it?"

Gin stuffs his hands into his sweater pockets, looking away.

"No," he says.

"Awe, why not?"

Gin shrugs, slumping in his seat.

"Promised s'meone else they coul'watch it first."

Izuru stares.

"Rangiku?"

Gin turns in his chair, his back facing the blond. Izuru lets out a quiet sigh, the same old same old, huh? He's been acting this way the entire week. It's weird. He has never seen his roommate act so… so – he struggles to find the word, ah – small. He seems more sensitive, vulnerable. Izuru always thought Gin had everything put together. He never showed an ounce of uncertainty or worry, except for well, now, and to this extent. He's surprised he's been able to avoid Rangiku for so long. She's like a lion hiding in the bushes, waiting to strike.

Izuru glances at his phone, watching the screen brighten after receiving a message. He skims his eyes over the text, re-reads it several times and rolls his shoulders back. He tries not to look at his roommate when he flicks off his phone. He bites the inside of his cheek, gaze dancing between his textbook and bed sheets. Rangiku is quite persistent. He wonders what she's got planned.

"Um," Izuru speaks up, unsure of whether he should ask or not, "is there something on your mind?" Gin doesn't answer. "You've been acting out of character lately and I was wondering if there was something you wanted to talk about." Izuru fiddles with his pencil. "I won't judge or anything, if you're worried, and I would never tell anyone if it's personal or something." He eyes the corner of Gin's grin ever present on his face.

"It's nothn."

Izuru stares at the back of Gin's head. Why is this guy is so difficult to read? He can't take the suspense anymore! Rangiku has been texting him relentlessly about Gin's behaviour and what he's been doing. It's driving him crazy yet he really wants to know what all of this drama is about. But Gin is like a brick wall. Every emotion, feeling and flaw is hidden, and Izuru has yet to figure out how to break through.

Gin stands from his chair.

"I'm gonna shower," he says, grabbing his duffle bag. He slings it over his shoulder and opens their door. Izuru is about to say something, but decides against it and nods. "See ya," Gin mutters before walking out, the door closing behind him.

He stalks down the hall, gaze directed to the wooden floor. The air around him feels uneasy. He isn't sure what it is, but something is sending a shiver down his spine. His ears feel a bit chilly too. Oh well. He shouldn't dwell on it. It's probably nothing.

He heads into the men's locker room. Grey lockers fill the vicinity, organized in six rows, separated by wooden benches. The floor is lined with white tiles, the walls painted a dull orange. Grimmjow and Renji are inside, laughing. They stand shirtless, towels hanging from their hips, abs proud and prominent against the bright ceiling lights. Gin tries not to compare himself as he chooses a locker in the far corner of the room, secluded. He's glad no one else is inside.

He places his duffle bag on the floor, hesitating before tugging off his shirt. His chest shivers from the cold air. He kicks off his shoes and socks, shoving them into the locker. He unbuttons his jeans, pushing them down his legs. He looks down at himself for a moment, not liking what he sees, but he forces himself not to dwell on it. It's not like he's trying to impress anyone, he shouldn't care what he looks like. At least he isn't too sore on the eyes, right? He sighs, turning to his bag. He grabs his towel, deciding to take the smaller one and hooks his fingers around the rim of his boxers. He's about to pull them off when he hears a loud, "whoa!"

He freezes.

"H-Hey you can't-" Renji yells, cutting himself off for some reason. Gin hears shuffling from the entrance. He curiously peeks past the row of lockers, wondering what's going on. His heart leaps into his throat as he snaps back, hiding himself. He holds his breath.

"Rangiku!" Grimmjow barks.

Oh no. Gin squeezes the towel in his hands, his knuckles turning white. He hears more shuffling, louder, more violent. He glances to his clothes. Why the heck did she show up now of all times?

"Get out of my way!" she says.

"You're not allowed in here!" Renji exclaims.

"I don't care!"

Gin plants his back against his locker, afraid to move. He can feel himself sweating a bit. Gosh, Rangiku really doesn't give up easily, does she? He wipes his forehead with his towel, almost dropping it. His hands are shaking.

"Gin, I know you're in there!"

He sucks in a breath as his heart stutters. How does she know? Did Izuru tell her? He clenches his fists, mentally telling himself to calm down. There is no way Grimmjow and Renji would let her in here. No way. There are strict rules about these sorts of things. Privacy is an important policy. She could get in trouble with the school, so there's no way she would do it. He tries to slow his breathing. He shouldn't be worried, he shouldn't. She'll leave. She'll give up. She won't struggle against those guys for long. Gin is certain.

"If you two don't let me through I swear-" she growls.

"Rangiku, can't you wait until Gin is done?" Renji asks.

"No!" He hears her slam her fist into the wall. He jumps. "Get out of my way!"

There is a pause. It's so quiet he can hear the blood flowing in his veins and the trickle of sweat running down his temple. What's going on? Did she leave? He can't hear anything. Are they still talking? He glances to the shirt in his locker. Despite still wearing his boxers, he feels way too naked. The air around his body clashes against his arms, legs, back and chest like a sword, reminding him he isn't wearing any armour. Has she really left? What if she hasn't? He doesn't know, he can't hear what's going on. He swallows. Forget it. He reaches for his pants. He's not taking a shower anymore. He's changed his mind. He'll take a shower tomorrow or something. He has to get out of here. Even if Rangiku has left, he's feeling too uneasy.

But before he is able to grab his pants, Grimmjow shrieks. Gin tenses, clutching the towel close to his stomach. The blue-head whines, his voice echoing within the locker room, there is a loud thud and Renji gasps.

What the heck happened?

He almost pisses himself when he hears loud footsteps march within the room.

"Gin?!"

Oh no. Please no. He holds his towel to his mouth, quieting his breath and frantically glancing around. She's inside? How did she get in? Weren't Grimmjow and Renji blocking her way? Her footsteps crash against the tiled floor like waves. His stomach tightens. Forget about his clothes, he's got to hide. He struggles to come up with a solution, an escape, anything! But there's nowhere to go. He can't run out of the locker room, she'd see him, and he's in his underwear for crying out loud.

Rangiku's footsteps blast within his eardrums like a hammer, its volume getting louder and louder with each step.

Why did he decide to take a shower today? He's so dumb. Now he's stuck in an awkward position. Gosh, Rangiku is too bold sometimes. He can't believe she forced her way in the men's locker room, not that there's anyone inside except for him, but still. Ah, he freezes. He's only wearing his boxers. If she finds him… No. He searches his brain for a way out of this. He can't let her see him. This is absolutely humiliating. He glances back at his pants. She'd hear him if he tried to put them on. What should he do? The locker room is big but it won't take long before she finds him. His stomach is starting to get queasy from stress.

He lets out a quivering breath. He can't freak out, he has to stay calm. He just needs to think, he's good at thinking. There must be a solution.

He catches sight of a narrow hall to his left. He hesitates, clenching his fists then loosening them. The showers. That would be a good place to hide. If he sneaks himself in one of the shower stalls she might not find him. He swallows, his bones trembling. Should he actually though? If he goes in, there's no way of getting out. But he doesn't really have any other choice. He glances around, mentally preparing himself. He has to do this fast, quiet and swift.

He clenches the towel in his grasp and inhales a deep breath.

"Where are you?" he hears Rangiku ask.

Like a ninja, he darts for the showers. He's amazed by how fast he's able to flash down the hall and slip into the furthest stall. He closes the door as soft as he can, relieved when it barely makes a sound. He did it. He leans back against the wall, his heart threatening to shoot out of his mouth. His back fidgets against the cold tiles on the wall. He drapes his towel over his shoulders, warming himself up. He swallows; however, uncomfortable with the amount of skin he's showing.

He exhales.

He can feel the adrenaline surging all throughout his body, warning him not to be found. He won't. He's good at hiding. He's been doing it all his life. She won't find him. He tugs his towel closer around himself, wanting to disappear. Why did she show up all of a sudden? How did she know he was here? He tries to stop his legs from shaking. His heart his beating so hard he can feel it through his chest. As long as he's quiet she won't find him. He bites his lip, trying not to make a sound. He's so afraid. He wishes the ground could swallow him up. He can't let her see him like this. He isn't ready. He hasn't gotten over his feelings yet. He doesn't want Rangiku to be uncomfortable around him. He absolutely loves being her friend. A lot. But now that he's struggling with his attraction towards her he doesn't want to ruin that. They have such a great relationship. They've been through a lot together, and he doesn't want Rangiku to think that he doesn't appreciate their friendship.

"Gin?"

He covers his mouth with his left hand.

"Come on, Gin, this is getting ridiculous."

His body trembles. He has to calm the heck down, she'll hear his knees chattering. And if she does end up finding him he can't be acting this way, he can't let her see him like this. He clenches his jaw, hoping to relax his heartbeat. He can't.

"I need to talk to you."

He glances around. There's nowhere to go. Dang. He should have taken a shower when it was busy. She wouldn't have barged in if there were fifty naked guys walking about. He removes his hand from his mouth, adjusting the towel over his chest. He should have taken the bigger one, this towel feels so much smaller than it usually does. He looks down at himself, a feeling of dread spreading in his gut. This sucks. Now she's going to see everything he doesn't want her to see. Why did puberty make him so lanky? Gosh, why can't he keep a couple of extra pounds on his body? Why is it so hard? He is nothing compared to how jacked Grimmjow and Renji are. They are literally made of rock compared to him. What went wrong?

He bites the inside of his cheek. Will she mind? They've been friends forever and she's never commented on his appearance before. Maybe she doesn't care. Although, what kind of guys does she like? She's never talked about it before. She had made several jokes about who she found attractive but Gin was never certain if she were speaking the truth or not.

The shower door creaks opens. His grin falls.

Gin presses himself so hard against the wall he thinks he starts moulding into it. There's nowhere to run now.

"Gin?" Rangiku peeks her head in, her strawberry-blond locks glowing against the dull grey of the door. Her eyes immediately lock with his own. She seems surprised to have found him. She stares, her eyes widening the slightest bit.

Gin's grin shoots back on his face faster than a bullet. He can feel his stomach flipping and twisting in knots, and he's trying to force himself to speak but his throat feels clogged and his tongue is sewn to the roof of his mouth. She is looking at him with such intensity he worries whether she can see his soul or not. He tries not to show he's shaking. If he thought he felt naked before, he was certainly wrong. Gin is too aware that his towel doesn't reach his stomach.

"H-Hey," he speaks up, his voice wavering. Dang. He mentally kicks himself. He sounds awful, just as awful as he feels. He lowers his head a bit, his grin stretching a bit wider. He needs to act normal. He can do it. He can. He can. He can? "Yer not allowed'n here, ya know." She opens her mouth to speak, but she doesn't say anything. Her silence rings in his ears like a painful echo. He thinks he's going to collapse from a heart attack. He doesn't, but he must have really looked liked it because she takes a quick step forward. "You shoul'go," Gin quickly says, stopping her approach.

She gazes at him, a look he cannot discern flashing across her face.

"Gin," she says, her words soft and filled with so much emotion he forgets how to breathe. She takes a step forward as he pushes harder into the wall. "What's wrong?" she asks.

He can't believe how much he's trembling, it's like there's an earthquake inside his body. He's sweating a lot too. Gosh. He's so freaking nervous he could throw up. And he really hates how he's only wearing boxers. Why couldn't he have grabbed his larger towel? It was right there in his bag.

"Nothn," he answers, but his voice cracks. He stiffens. Way to sound convincing. He attempts to shrug it off. "Really," he says, ducking his head, allowing his bangs to shield his face, "there's nothn'wrong."

She takes another step forward, the remaining pieces of his mask threatening to fall.

"It doesn't look like nothing."

He lets out a weak laugh.

"Well'm tellin th'truth." Gin can feel his breath waver as he exhales. Come on. He can do this. He's been avoiding her for an entire week. He can't break now. He turns away when she tilts her head to get a better look. He is not letting her see him like this, especially his face. No way. "I really need ta take a shower," Gin says, his thoughts running a mile a second. He has to get away from her. Her presence is too overwhelming. After all that time apart, he hasn't realized just how much he's missed her. He swallows. "You shoul'really go." She takes a firm step forward. "Ran-"

She grabs his wrists, forcing him to let go of his towel. It slips off his shoulder and to the floor, landing around his ankles. He stops breathing. Her grip is strong, solid. Her nails pierce his skin like the thorns of a rose. His grin slips. He tries to twitch his lips back up but they only gape the slightest instead. The fragments of his mask shatter into thousands of pieces, flickering off his face. His eyes open without his consent. Oh no. He stares, appalled, as she clings on to the sight of his blue eyes. She can tell. She can see, and he can't do anything about it.

He stands, unprepared, as she presses herself against him, her breasts warm against his chest.

"R-Ran-"

His face flushes a bright scarlet. He panics, trying to step to the side and away, but she pushes her weight into him, trapping him against the wall. He can't look away, her gaze searches within his own, digging, gouging and peeling away the layers. This is not what's supposed to happen. She's not supposed to know. He tries to shove her away, but the grip on his wrists tighten, preventing his movements. She brings her face close, too close. He can feel her breath against his lips.

The red on his face spreads down his neck, chest and around his ears. He attempts to speak but he can't.

She glances at his lips for a moment as a pink dusts on her cheeks. Gin's eyes widen at the colour when she reconnect their gaze. Her hands release their grip on his wrists and slide up his arms, sending waves of goose bumps on his skin. His heart quickens its pace when she glides her fingers down the sides of his torso and rest on his hips, brushing against the rim of his boxers. She leans forward, her eyes never breaking away. Her nose lightly touches his cheek when she tilts her head. He lets out a nervous breath before she kisses him.

A wave rushes through his body. His eyes fall shut on their own as he melts into her, his hands grasping on to her shoulders. The warmth of her body shapes into him as her hands skate across his stomach and curve over his chest, feeling his heartbeat. Her touch is exhilarating against his skin, like flames bursting from a fire. Her lips are soft, amazing, her scent, intoxicating. A sensation swells in his lower abdomen, one he cannot control, when she sighs. His body becomes sensitive and he lets out a sound, unable to hold it back. He freaks out a bit when he feels himself getting a bit too excited, but he somehow finds the strength to push her away, preventing any awkward situation that could have occurred. He gasps for breath, his face absolutely on fire. The feeling swirling in his gut doesn't subside though. It sends flares of pleasure all over his being, more intense than he's ready to handle.

His chest heaves, so does hers. Her face is flushed and her eyes are hooded. She places a hand to his cheek, pressing herself even closer. She basks in the feeling of his heartbeat and the heat of his skin. She smiles.

"I see," she says.

He exhales, unsure of what to say. He's never blushed so much in his entire life and he doesn't trust his voice. He doesn't even understand what just happened. Did she kiss him? Did he kiss her back?

She leans her forehead against his, gently.

"And all this time I thought you were mad at me," she says, looking into his eyes. Gin lets his hands fall from her shoulders to her arms. "Guess I was wrong, huh?"

A laugh breaks past Gin's lips in a breath.

"Y-Yeah," he answers, hyperaware of how flustered he is. Wow he was so not prepared for this. But she forces him not to worry when her gaze softens.

She kisses him, again, with tenderness and love. Gin's chest swells, and he kisses her back. He thinks his knees are going to buckle, but he's glad she's pinning him against the wall, he would have collapsed by now. His heart is beating so fast his body feels like its being pumped with shocks of electricity. His mind is racing. He's feeling confused, happy, worried, relaxed and excited all at the same time.

When they break apart Gin has to look away, too overwhelmed. Oh gosh this is not what he expected. His emotions have had the workout of a lifetime. He's surprised he hasn't died of a heart attack yet. He takes in a deep breath of air. He has never felt so elated, and he's feeling a bit dizzy too. He probably looks like a mess, but he'll stress about that later, right now he doesn't really know what to do with himself.

Rangiku smiles, running her fingers through his hair, which looks a lot lighter in contrast with the red of his skin. He shivers.

"You could have talked to me," she says, taking in his flustered state.

He tries to cover his face with his hand, but Rangiku threads her fingers with his, resting their hands between them. Gin is stricken by her heartbeat.

"I wasn'sure…" he says, trailing off. "I didn'wanna ruin anything."

She chuckles lightly.

"How could this ruin anything?" she asks, her smile brightening.

"I dunno." His blue eyes swim with hers. "I didn'think…I thought ya would prefer someone better."

She tilts her head a bit, her smile never leaving her face. Gin has to say that he has never seen Rangiku look so beautiful in his entire life. Her cheeks are red, her lip-gloss is smudged, her hair is dishevelled and her shirt is wrinkled; she's stunning.

"Who could be better than you?" she says, chuckling. "And for the record, I've been crushing on you for a while too."

His eyes widen.

"Well then," she says, "I'll let you cool off." She takes a step back. Gin watches her, finding the pink on her cheeks captivating. She heads for the shower door, pulling it open it to leave. "I'll be waiting in your room." She turns to him. "I wanna watch your short film, Izuru told me you were done." He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. "You haven't shown it to anyone, right? I'm the first?" He wants to respond, but he can only muster a nod. She gleams. "Good. I'll see you there."

She sends him one more glance before stalking away, her footsteps thinning out as she exits the vicinity. Gin stares at the door for a moment, processing what just happened. He waits until his breathing regulates before sliding down to the ground. He grabs his towel and plants his face in his hands, feeling the heat of his blush through the material.

He should definitely take a shower.

Once the water is pouring down his back he can't help but break out into a broad smile. He tries to bite it down, embarrassed, despite being alone, but he can't. He rolls his shoulders, leaning his head back. The hot water dampens his hair, leaks over his forehead and taps against his nose. His heart flutters in his chest, light and constant. He lets out a breath.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Rangiku stares as the last scene of Gin's film unfolds onto his laptop. She watches herself, as a she stares into the distance, a melancholic expression taking hold of her face. The sun brightens the back of her hair, darkening her features. The wind blows around her, reminding her that life is like the wind, fleeting, uncertain.

She leans forward in her chair – well, Izuru's chair to be precise – as the screen turns to black. The credits start rolling up the page. She grins when she sees her name.

She glances to her side, watching Gin as he sits anxiously in his spot. He leans his elbow on the armrest of his seat, his hand resting against his mouth. He glances at her for a moment before quitting the software and closing his laptop. He turns to her.

"Wha'did ya think?" he asks.

Her eyes brighten.

"It was so good!" she exclaims, clapping. "I was so in to it. I can't even believe you made this. It's top notch professional and well thought out!"

Gin chuckles at her compliment, rubbing a hand behind his neck.

"Thanks, Ran. Couln'o done it without you though."

"Hm, it's true," she says, with humour. "I really did make your film a whole lot better than it could have been."

His grin widens.

He's missed this. He gazes at Rangiku. He's missed her, her company, her jokes, her personality. He's missed her so much. He's missed talking with her without wondering where their boundaries lie. He's missed looking at Rangiku and seeing her smile, a smile directed to him, for him. He's been worrying for no reason. All the confusion and doubt he struggled with has lifted from his shoulders. He no longer feels their burden.

"So," Rangiku says, draping her arm over the back of her chair. She sends him a smile.

The way her hair pours around her face sends a surge of something in his gut. He tries not to show it on his face.

"Hm?" he asks.

"When did you start liking me?"

He tenses at her question, but relaxes himself just as quick. He stares at her, taking in her playful yet honest expression. She wants to know. He can tell she really does.

He turns his gaze to the floor in the space between them. This isn't the first time she's brought up the topic of love. She has asked him questions like these several – no – _many_ times. If he's liked anyone or if he finds so-and-so cute. And every time she asks, or even hints to the topic, he becomes shy and quiet. He isn't sure why. He just stiffens up, his tongue twist in the back of his throat and he can't help but fidget. He's been avoiding topics like these since the day he was born. It makes him feel flustered and vulnerable. This topic concerns the heart, emotion, feelings. Gin isn't the best at dealing with those things.

He fiddles with the strings of his sweater, trying to come up with a response. He's probably liked her ever since elementary school, but he doesn't want to tell her that. That would be weird, wouldn't it? He hides his hands in his pockets. Ah, he's too embarrassed, especially now that she's staring at him.

"I'll go first then," she speaks up. He looks at her, not understanding what she's talking about. "A long time ago, in the distant past of high school, there was one specific moment that confirmed my feelings for you." Gin's brows rise. "You wanna know when that was?" She smirks at the curiosity on his face. He nods, although hesitantly, showing his interest. "Ha, you cutie," she says, he blushes, "anyway, I don't know if you remember, but we had a science project in our first year with Mr. Kurotsuchi."

"Th'creepy guy?"

"Yeah." She laughs. "Anyway, not the point." She shifts in her chair. "We paired up, obviously, and decided to meet up at your house to start on the project. We were in your room, sitting by your bed, trying to create a heart out of red twist ties. Do you remember?" He nods while she snorts at the memory. "We had no idea what we were doing, I'm surprised we even passed! That Mr. Kurotsuchi really was insane."

Gin feels his chest swell at the amusement on her face. He loves it when she laughs. He suddenly realizes they are alone in his dorm room. He tries not to make it a big deal. But he can feel his hands start to sweat. He mentally scolds himself for feeling nervous. She's visited him many times before, this shouldn't be a big deal now.

"I realized something that day," Rangiku says. Gin looks at her. He can't help but melt at her gaze. "When you had left me alone in your room to grab some snacks for the two of us, I started thinking. And I realized that no matter what we did together, whether we succeeded or failed, I'd always be having a good time." She smiles. "I loved being with you. I loved talking with you, laughing with you, sharing personal stuff with you. I even loved smacking you across the head when you made me angry." Gin makes a face. Rangiku only laughs. "That day," she says, her laughter dying down, "I realized that I really loved you; as a friend, as a brother, as a lover, whatever. I just loved you."

Gin catches the sincerity in her eyes and how her cheeks become warm. His stomach flutters.

"I know you don't think you mean much to anybody," she says, "but you really mean a lot to me." Rangiku rests her cheek against her arm. "And there's my romantic confession." She giggles. "Your turn."

Confession.

Gin's heart rattles in his chest. He envies Rangiku's boldness sometimes. She isn't afraid of saying the truth. He can't back out like he usually does. This time he has to tell her. He wants to tell her. He just doesn't know how. He removes his hands from his pockets, placing them on his lap.

"Well," he says, turning his head to the side, finding it easier to speak when he's not looking at her, "you were always popular. Wasn't hard for ya t'make friends." He pauses, glancing at the picture frame on his desk. "I always admired that'bout ya." It is a photo of him and Rangiku when they were starting preschool. Her smile is as vibrant as ever as he plasters on his grin. Rangiku follows his line of sight, smiling at the memory. "Ya were always bold, never afraid'o anything. Th'first time I met ya I was freaked out when ya grabbed ma hand and tol'me you wanted ta be friends."

She laughs.

"I remember that," she says. "Ah, good times. You were super quiet back then."

"I wasn't."

"You were, I remember."

"I wasn't super quiet."

"Sorry bud, you can't argue this with denial. I'm right, case closed. Now continue on with your confession."

Gin tries to match Rangiku's glare, but gives up, sighing. She grins.

"Ok, anyway," he says, "I didn't know why ya wanted t'be friends with me." He shuffles his feet a bit against the floor. "I wasn'anything special. I always thought ya were too good t'be hangin'out wit'a guy like me."

Her eyes widen.

"Really? You thought that?" She pokes his arm, glad when he meets her gaze. "I always thought you were the coolest person in the world." He gives her a look. "You don't believe me?" His expression doesn't change. Coolest person in the world? Everyone at their school thought he was a demon-possessed kid who could control his dog with his mind. Rangiku's lips curl into a smirk. "I suppose it was love at first sight, huh? We didn't even know we had feelings for each other wall this time."

He scoffs, but he can't hide the red on his face.

"Little Gin with yellow rain boots had feelings for me," she says, teasing him as she leans forward. He snorts, trying to push her back. "How cute you were! Trying to act all tough and nonchalant, but inside you were just a damsel waiting to be saved by the all mighty Rangiku."

"Stop," he says, embarrassed, but he's holding back a laugh.

She pokes his cheek, enjoying its red colour. He grabs her hand when she's about to poke him again. She smiles, threading their fingers together.

"In the end it all worked out somehow," she says, her voice soft.

He smiles.

"Although you were being difficult," Rangiku comments, her eyes narrowing and lips pursing. "You could have saved us from all that drama by just talking to me. You never know how useful a conversation can be."

He chuckles.

"I know."

"You always say that."

"Yet here w'are."

Rangiku hums.

"True." She gives him a look. "But still."


	6. Chapter 6

Authors Note: I changed the rating from T to M because this chapter is more on the - well... you'll see. Anyway! Enjoy the last chapter!

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[Final Chapter]

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Gin steps out of the library. The hall is quiet, not a person in sight. The light of the moon drifts through the windows, brightening the boy's face and hair. The sky is dark, clear, the clouds from the early morning gone with the wind. He adjusts his laptop bag hanging from his shoulder and stretches his arms up in the air, groaning as his joints pop. He lets his arms fall to his sides. He really needs to do some yoga or something. His body is so tense from sitting in front of a screen all day. Editing can be fun, but man is it tiring.

He ventures down the hall, eager to get to his dorm. His jeans are starting to get uncomfortable and his sneakers are too restricting. The thought of his soft pyjamas and slippers sends a childish excitement through his body. Ah, how he loves comfort. He can't wait until he's sitting on his bed, warm and relaxed. The library chairs are too hard and the hallway air is too cool. He glances at the snow outside and sighs. Winter is so long and cold. He turns away. Oh well. He can make some hot chocolate or something.

Gin is about to pick up his pace, but hesitates when he sees Izuru round the corner. He stops. The blonde's posture is slumped, his gaze jumps about and his brows are scrunched up in worry. Gin gives the guy a look. Izuru never leaves their dorm at this time of night, how odd. He should be sleeping, or cramming for a test.

"Whatcha doin'ere?" Gin asks, walking over to the boy.

Izuru is in the middle of a yawn but chokes on his saliva at Gin's question. He coughs, pounding his chest and turns to his roommate. A look of surprise, happiness and embarrassment flashes across his face. Izuru sends him a strange smile, which does not go unnoticed by Gin.

"Oh hey," Izuru says, letting out a small laugh. He straightens his spine, a drop of sweat falling down his temple. "Just, you know, enjoying a walk around campus at eleven o'clock at night." He glances around, seeming uncomfortable. Gin watches as he shuffles his feet and fidgets in his spot.

"What's got ya all worked up?"

"Um, nothing," Izuru answers. His cheeks turn a shade of pink though. Gin stares, wondering what's going on. Izuru bites his lip, his face twisting in contemplation and worry. A war seems to erupt within the blonde's mind before he groans. "You should go to our dorm," is what he finally says, desperation laced in his tone. Gin is about to ask why but the blond cuts him off saying, "Like now." Gin doesn't move. "Just go, please."

"I don't underst – "

"Trust me, you'll understand when you get there." Izuru grabs his shoulders, his eyes pleading with the taller male. "I can't explain." He pauses, frowns, and then looks away. His hands drop to his sides. "This is something you need to discover on your own." Gin raises a brow, amused by his roommate's dramatic air. "By the way," Izuru says, completely serious, "I won't be sleeping in our dorm for the next two days."

Gin stares, confused.

"Why not?"

Izuru sighs.

"Again," the blond says, his voice filled with embarrassment, "everything will make sense when you get there." He pushes the taller boy in the direction of their room. "Oh, and I didn't do it," Gin grows more puzzled as he is shoved, stumbling a few steps away, "just a heads up, in case you're worried. And I won't tell anyone. Not that I would want to tell anyone about this." Izuru's cheeks grow warmer. He shakes his head. "Just do whatever you need to do."

"Uh," Gin says, looking over his shoulder as he begins walking down the hall, "ok."

Izuru waves, with a small smile as Gin turns out of sight towards their dorm. The trek to his room is quiet, there really aren't that many people walking about at this time of night. He passes by Nnoitra and Nelliel though, as he climbs up the treacherous staircase. Both give him a weird look, one that sends an uncomfortable shiver down his spine. It makes him feel nervous, as if he should know something, something important. He hears them snicker quietly behind him and their eyes lingering on his back. He tries not to let it bother him. It's probably nothing. Hopefully.

Comfortable clothes, he reminds himself, comfortable clothes and warm slippers. That should be the only thing on his mind right now. With that mind set, he finally makes it to his floor. He's tired from the climb, yet safe and sound.

He pauses, however, when he comes face to face with Grimmjow. When their gazes meet, the guy slams a hand to his mouth. It's obvious he's trying not to laugh, but he lets out a deep chuckle when Gin shuffles a bit. His nerves rattle, wanting to desperately ask what is so funny. He doesn't have a chance though when Grimmjow pats his shoulder without a word of explanation and leaves. He turns, ready to scavenge for some information, but the boy is already jogging down the stairs.

Gin stares, an awkward sensation building in his gut.

He doesn't understand what's going on. Should he know something? He glances around, noticing the few familiar faces of Chad and Ichigo down the hall. They both turn away when he catches their eye. Weird. He searches his mind, wondering what all of this could be about, but he can't think of anything. He tries to shake it off as he shoves his hand in his pocket. Wait. Is his fly down? He panics, checking his jeans, but lets out a breath, relieved to know that it's zipped up. He pulls out his room key, twisting it in his hand. He heads over to his room, mind racing with questions. He bites the inside of his cheek, struggling to understand.

It _is_ common for people to give him weird looks. He's quite infamous for being a bit creepy-looking and unnerving. Awkward glances and whispers are something he has grown accustomed to, but still, this is a bit too much to be normal. Gin sighs. He's over thinking things. He should forget about it, there's no point worrying over nothing.

He glances at his door, ready to get inside, but stops, his body stiffening into a statue.

What.

On the wooden surface is a picture, taped, with a sticker of a heart on the top left corner. Gin can feel his face drain of blood and his mouth gape. He stares, horrified, at a two-year-old him wearing nothing but a scarf, _just a freaking scarf_ , sitting on his parent's couch. Rangiku is in the photo as well. She's laughing, in the background, her face red and tears streaming down her cheeks. Gin's mind freezes. Who? How? He forgets to breath. Oh gosh. His body is exposed, his _everything_ is exposed, and he's crying. Not only that, but he's an ugly crier. Gin thinks his soul leaves his body.

Who the heck put this here?

He snatches the picture with clammy hands and shoves it in his bag. Chad and Ichigo start whispering a few meters away. Gin frantically keeps his head lowered. How humiliating. Whoever got a hold of a picture like this is absolutely cruel, and to post it for the world to see no less! Ugh, why. He swallows, not liking the fact that all the strange looks where the cause of this awful photo.

Gin struggles to unlock his door. There is no place he'd rather be than in his room and contemplate the amount of embarrassment he is feeling. He drops his key, groans, and picks it up. Come on. He unlocks it, lets out a breath of relief and places his key in his pocket. Finally. He turns the knob and pushes his way in, happy to be out of Chad and Ichigo's sight. There's no doubt in Gin's mind that they saw the picture. Gosh. He locks his gaze to the floor as he knocks off his shoes and closes the door. How is he supposed to show his face now that – Gin's thoughts cut off when something crashes into him.

He let's out a startled gasp as his back slams against the wall. His bag almost crashes to the ground, but he grabs the strap, slowing its fall. His heart almost leaps out of his chest. He tries to push the weight off, but he's too frazzled to regain his strength. He glances down at the orange hair tickling his face and stares at a pair of blue eyes.

Rangiku grins.

"Hey," she sings, stepping back.

"Ya scared me, Ran," Gin says, letting out a breath. He rests his back against the wall and places his bag on the ground. His mind jumps between the photo and Rangiku's presence, wondering if she had seen it. He watches as she pulls away from him, saunters over to his bed and sits down, her skirt riding up her thigh. He looks away. "What are ya doin'ere?" he asks, turning to his desk.

He lifts his bag onto his chair, quick to grab the photo and hide it in his sweater pocket. He runs a hand through his hair, hoping he doesn't look dishevelled.

Ever since their relationship has evolved from friends to 'dating status', he's felt anxious whenever she enters his room. Especially when Izuru isn't around and it's just the two of them. He becomes too hyperaware of Rangiku's body sometimes and doesn't know what to do with this awareness. He knows sexuality is apart of the package when being in a relationship, but he isn't sure how to go about it.

He's known Rangiku all his life though, he shouldn't be anxious around her. She knows his limits and boundaries and wouldn't cross over them without his consent. But they've been dating for eight weeks and three days now. Yes, he's been counting. And to top it all off, they share a tremendous amount of years of friendship, so they're close. Pretty damn close. They haven't done anything too over-the-top together though. They've kissed, sure, and hugged yeah, but that's pretty much it.

Sometimes when Gin isn't too flustered he would let Rangiku slip her tongue into a kiss and run her hands inside his shirt. It wouldn't last more than a couple minutes though. He would break away once Rangiku started playing around with his nipples, and she _always_ did that. But it did weird things to his body and he could never continue. That amount of intimacy and pleasure was one too high for Gin's current level.

He catches her appearance in the corner of his eye as he makes himself busy taking out his laptop. She's wearing a tight shirt, low cut and a bit transparent. He knows if he stared he would be able to make out the pattern of her bra.

"Did you see my present?" she asks, ignoring his initial question.

He pauses and gives her a confused look.

"For getting a ninety-seven percent average in your film class?" she elaborates. He shakes his head, not understanding. She sighs. "The picture," she says. "I taped it on your door. Didn't you see it?"

"Oh," he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah," he pulls it out of his pocket, "I saw it."

She jumps from his bed and runs to his side. She snatches the photo from his hand and ogles it. In a moment she is laughing. Her head tilted back, face turning red and voice bellowing all over the room. He frowns, his cheeks turning pink from embarrassment. He grabs the photo away from her, hating the fact it exists. She snorts at the expression on his face.

"Oh come on!" she exclaims, wheezing.

"It's not funny." He turns away from her. "I'm throwin'it out."

She gasps.

"No!" She shoves into him, snatching his wrist. He attempts to wiggle her off. "Don't throw it out! Do you have any idea what I went through to get a hold of something like that?"

She uses her other hand to reach for the photo, but he shoves his hand in her face, pushing her back. She growls, brows furrowing, but she doesn't let go of his arm. Gin struggles to get her away, his breathing heavier from the effort.

"I don'care how long i'took ya to get thi'stupid picture," he says, almost falling when she deliberately kicks the back of his knee.

He stumbles a bit, but catches himself on his desk. Rangiku slaps his hand from her face and steps forward, pushing her breasts up against his chest. He lands back on the surface of the table, grunting as the hard edge knocks into his belt and urges against his skin. She grins, thinking she will be able to grab the picture, but he quickly pulls it out of her reach. She groans, annoyed that he's being so stubborn, but beams when an idea pops in her mind.

Heh.

Her lips curl into a devilish smirk.

She leans forward, her body squeezing in between the boy's legs, spreading them apart. She slams her hands down on his shoulders, pressing him down on the desk. Gin fights to get the object away from her, horrified by what she could possibly do with this kind of blackmail, but freezes when she snaps her hands down to the inside of his thighs.

He stares, thrown off guard.

Rangiku glides the pads of her fingers along his jeans, slowly and thoughtfully. They tickle the sensitive area, causing goose bumps to spread down his legs and up to his groin. His gaze immediately locks with Rangiku's mischievous eyes. He watches as she brings her face closer, her body pressing further onto him. Their noses almost touch, but she doesn't move any closer. He can feel the heat of her hands through his jeans and the curve of her legs pushing closer.

He let's out a breath, his heart barely moving in his chest.

Her fingers trail up his inner thighs, getting a bit too close to his area.

His body trembles under her stare. He isn't sure what's going on or what to think. He can't even move if he wanted to.

He feels her fingers feather over his place and something inside of him starts burning, pleading, crying out to be touched. His slit eyes open the slightest bit, revealing his blue irises. Her gaze grabs hold of his own. He can't move, he can't breath, he can't speak, he can't think. His jaw tightens when all the blood in his body rushes down, his body growing incredibly sensitive. Oh gosh. Only now does he realize his legs are spread wide with Rangiku in between, her cleavage is too prominent in his line of sight.

She is so beautiful, he can't look anywhere else other than her eyes. She has captivated him, as if he were under a spell. Her gaze is so powerful, trapping him.

The grip on his photo loosens as he breath catches.

She is about to press her palm down, on him, on that place. She is about to touch him there, _feel_ him. She is about to do this, right here, right now. She is about to step over a line, one he never thought they would face. But he doesn't think he minds. He isn't afraid. He wouldn't mind if Rangiku touched him there.

But she doesn't.

She moves her fingers away and grabs the photo out of his hand. She steps back, a grin on her face.

His eyes open wider.

Eh – what.

She looks at the picture, satisfied.

Gin doesn't move from his spot though, sprawled on his desk. He stares, mouth slightly agape and forehead glossy. There are goose bumps running up and down his chest and stomach, teasing him, fooling around with his nerves. His arms and legs feel like jelly as his heart hammers in his chest.

He exhales.

He was about to moan.

Oh gosh.

He was.

His heart starts freaking out. He was going to do it, he was ready, it was there. The sound was about to roll off his tongue, echo throughout the room and into their ears. He was about to gasp out and whimper Rangiku's name. He was about to lift his pelvis up to her touch. He was ready to lean his head back and bite his lip. He can still feel the sound lodged in the back of his throat.

His face feels like it's on fire. What happened? How did they? He can't remember what they were bickering about. How did he get on top his desk? It's too hot. Why is it so hot? It's winter, right? Of wait, he still hasn't moved. He's still on his desk. He should move.

Gin somehow finds the strength to slide off the table. His jeans are too tight and his legs aren't stable. They're going to buckle. He glances around, his mind on overdrive. He almost cries when he sees his chair. Before his legs give out, he sits on his seat, but realizes his laptop is there and fumbles to pick it up and place it on his lap. The heat on his face spreads down his neck. Man, his jeans are really way too tight.

Rangiku has her eyes on the picture, but Gin notices that her cheeks are rosy.

He hears his heart drumming a mile a minute in his ears, pounding against his chest like a crazed animal, frantic, feverish. He swallows. He can almost see the steam escaping his face. His breathing his laboured, coming out in awkward pants. His problem is getting too excited under his laptop. He bites the inside of his cheek. He has to calm the heck down. He has to think of something weird, something gross, something boring. He needs to get his mind off of it. But what? Think, think, come one, think! He glances around, trying his best not to look at Rangiku. Ah! Math, of course. Math is probably the worst thing to exist in this world. Math, math, he chants in his mind. It's the worst thing to exist, the worst, the absolute wors- wait.

The picture!

Dang. He glances up.

He totally forgot.

"I swiped this photo from your dad," Rangiku says, turning it over so he can see.

Gin doesn't look at it. His eyes immediately fall on Rangiku's lips. He tries to rip his eyes away, her lips are so endearing though. He pinches his leg to snap out of it, and does, with difficulty. He turns to the picture. It's a shot of him, naked. Even then, when he was two years old, he was a scrawny, unattractive kid.

"I don'appreciate you postin'that for the whole world t'see," he says, surprised that he was able to say anything at all, although his voice is a bit husky.

"But you're so cute," Rangiku says, pouting. "I thought it would be fun."

"I look weird," Gin mumbles, looking to the floor.

"How do you look weird?"

He shuffles a bit and shrugs his shoulders.

"Well," Rangiku says, placing the picture on his desk, "I think you look absolutely adorable." When she says this, she's looking straight at him.

His heart swells at the compliment. She can be too honest for her own good, but the feeling doesn't last long when her gaze snaps down to his laptop. He tenses, knowing that the grin spreading on her lips isn't because of the device, but what's going on underneath.

He clears his throat, trying to draw attention away from something she _can't_ see but knows is there.

"A-Anyway, ya didn't tell me why ya came'ere," Gin says, fidgeting a bit.

He thought he would be able to calm the fire in his groin but whatever heat he was able to cool is boiling up again. Dang it, why is Rangiku making this so hard?

She takes a step closer to him, her eyes trailing up his torso, hovering on his lips for a moment before meeting his eyes. Gin exhales at the intensity of her gaze. She really makes her intentions obvious, huh?

"Does a girlfriend need a reason to visit her boyfriend?" she asks, placing her hands on either armrest, bending forward.

He lets out a wavering breath, desperately trying not to glance away from her face. But she's so forward it's a bit overwhelming.

"No, guess not," he answers, his voice coming out in a whisper.

Man, he's starting to sweat a bit.

Rangiku smiles, but it's not innocent. She leans in and kisses his cheek, slow, tender. Her lips are incredibly soft against his skin. He bites his lip, his toes curling. Oh gosh, this is not what he should be doing if he's trying to get rid of his situation down bellow. She runs her lips against his cheek until she lands on his mouth and kisses him. Gin is caught off guard by how passionate she is this time. Her tongue darts in his mouth, feeling for his own. The sensation is exhilarating. It makes his heat pulse.

He forces down a moan.

He kisses her back, appreciating the fact that she helps him relax into it. He actually thinks he isn't too nervous for once, well he is, he's just kind of accepted it by now. But that feeling subsides when he feels a hand hook under his sweater.

He pulls away when she teases his skin, surprised and extremely turned on by the action. He lets out a breath, catching her gaze as she continues to play around. Oh gosh, it feels really weird yet so good at the same time, and he doesn't want to chicken out. Even though he's nervous, he trusts her. He does. She loves him, she does, so he doesn't always have to keep his guard up. She's doing this to make him feel good, because she cares about him.

Rangiku kisses his jaw, trailing pecks all the way down to his collarbone. She kisses him there a while as her fingers gradually trickle down his chest, along his ribs and to his lower abdomen. Gin's heart is beating so fast, and his face in incredibly flushed.

Through her touches, pecks and glances she shows her care and love. She is passionate, yes, but gentle. Gin knows that Rangiku is much more confident in this area of life, but she doesn't abuse her confidence. She encourages him, urges him. She helps him, shows him things he should do and things he shouldn't. She pulls him out of his comfort zone, letting him touch her.

She smiles as she drops her shirt to the floor.

He exhales.

She is absolutely beautiful.

"Don't be shy," she says, her voice perfect.

Rangiku takes his hands, shows him where to feel. She tells him they don't have to go all the way. They can save that for a more special time. Nevertheless, she tells him they can still explore each other and enjoy each other's bodies.

She kisses him and he kisses her. He feels her and she feels him.

In the end, Gin finds himself lying on his bed, shirtless, with Rangiku in the same state at his side. She runs her fingers through his hair, enjoying the rise and fall of his chest. His body is cooling down, but still hot to the touch.

He looks at Rangiku and can't help but smile. He covers it though, embarrassed. She snorts, trying to pull his hand away, but he doesn't budge.

"What did I say about being shy?" she says, grinning. She wraps her arm over his chest. "You weren't being too shy before."

He blushes.

"Ah." She giggles. "There's my favourite expression."

"What expression?"

"That one," she answers, kissing his cheek.

He removes his hand from his mouth and curls a strand of hair behind her ear. She smiles, gazing fondly as he leans in and pecks her lips, pulling her close. He breathes in the sweet scent of her shampoo, its perfume wrapping around his body like a blanket. Rangiku hugs him back, resting her chin on his shoulder. The heat of her body against his own is unbelievable.

He sighs. Ah, he's feeling kind of tired now. He glances over Rangiku's hair and freezes when he sees the time on Izuru's desk.

It's one in the morning.

Dang. They've been going at it for – Gin flushes. Well, he can't complain. That was probably the two most exhilarating hours of his life. He's thankful Rangiku is confident in the sexuality department. If it were up to him, the heat would have only lasted ten minutes max.

Gin hugs Rangiku closer. He never knew how much he wanted to do this with her. The sexual tension was real. He feels relieved though. Even though they didn't go all the way, they definitely did other things that drove him insane. Gosh, Rangiku is so beautiful, and she doesn't hold back, that's for sure.

He closes his eyes when he feels Rangiku's breathing deepen.

He bites his lips, wondering whether she has fallen asleep or not. He doesn't move for a good minute before deciding that she has.

With as much courage he can muster, and as quietly as he can, he mutters a soft, "love ya". He can feel his cheeks grow warm from the embarrassing words. Ah, he shouldn't feel embarrassed. Couples say this to each other all the time, in movies at least. This is normal, it is, and Rangiku is sleeping anyway. She didn't even hear him.

"Love you too, cutie," he hears Rangiku whisper, her voice rough.

Gin's heart skips in surprise, but he smiles.

.

[Fin]

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Authors Note: This pairing though. It should have happened, like what the heck. No, actually it did happen. Let's just forget about the manga and anime. But if it weren't for Tite Kubo these characters wouldn't exist. Huh, thanks Kubo. Anyway! Thank you for reading! I loved writing this and I hope you all enjoyed it! And thanks for the awesome reviews! :)


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